


Trespasser In Another World

by nephrae



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blood and Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Masturbation, Post-Trespasser, Romance, Sad Solas, Slow Burn, Smut, Trespasser Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-07-03 09:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15816531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nephrae/pseuds/nephrae
Summary: Post-Trespasser, Modern AU.  When Fen'Harel tore down the Veil, the last thing he expected was to accidentally tear a hole into an alternate plane of reality as well. What's Ellana Lavellan to do when the strange man she's been dreaming of for years suddenly falls from the sky?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated E for future explicit descriptions of sex, violence, and drug use.

_ "You would risk everything you have in the hope that the future is better? What if it isn't? What if you wake up to find that the future you shaped is worse than what was?" _

 

\---

 

His hand grasped hers lightly, caressing the soft skin of her fingers as he led her through the dark cavern dripping with wet, the distinct pungent scent of mildew and deep mushroom lingering in the air. He’d asked if he could show her something, though the entire trip there he’d said very little and offered no explanation as to what it was he wanted to show her. The air here was damp and warm, droplets of water misting on her from the waterfall nearby that cooled her skin and it was a relief to the humidness lingering in the air about them.

The grass was thick and plush beneath her feet as he pulled her forward, turning to gaze at her and the soft smile on his lips shattered any nervousness that she’d been feeling. Those lips...oh those lips. The soft lips that she felt she could kiss for days and days without stopping for breath. The lips that tugged into a small smirk as he saw her face flush when he caught her gazing at him, but the smirk quickly dropped and he motioned to the secluded grotto they’d arrived at.

“The Veil is thin here. Can you feel it on your skin, tingling?” he asked her.

Ellana smiled in response, but couldn’t tear her eyes from his mouth. She so badly wanted to kiss him at the moment.  The soft moonlight reflecting off of the nearby pond lit up his eyes like veilfire and it took every ounce of her willpower not to lean in and lose herself in those eyes, to cover his lips with her own to silence whatever it was he wanted to say to her and just drink him in.

He raised his hand, fingers gently grazing her cheek, as his palm came to cup her cheek affectionately. “I was...trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me.” 

His hand dropped from her face and she couldn’t stop herself from brushing her fingers over where his warm hand had rested on her cheek. His behavior seemed a little apprehensive to her, and she smirked. Solas, nervous? The man who practically oozed confidence and who’s name literally meant Pride?

“I’m listening, and I can offer a few suggestions,” Ellana replied to him with a demure look. She probably wasn’t helping.

“I shall bear that in mind,” he said with a laugh, her coy response notably easing his tensions somewhat. “For now, the best gift I can offer is...the truth”.

She saw him swallow, then pause. “You are unique,” he continued, “In all of Thedas, I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from the Fade.”

A smile bloomed across her face as she listened to him aptly.

“You have become important to me, more important than I could have imagined.”

She cozied a little closer to him, their hands interwoven together between them, his thumb tracing lazy patterns on hers while he spoke. “As you are to me,” she replied. And she meant it, meant it with every particle of her being.

“Then what I must tell you...the truth…” he paused again. He looked down in a weak attempt to break eye contact with her, as if ashamed by what he was going to tell her.

Ellana tilted her head and looked him in the eye, confused by where he was going with this.

“Your face. The vallaslin. In my journeys in the Fade, I have seen many things. I have discovered what those marks mean.”

Now she was nervous. “They honour the elven gods,” she replied.  _...Didn’t they? _

“No. They are slave markings, or at least, they were in the time of ancient Arlathan.”

She blinked. What? That couldn’t be right. “My clan’s Keeper said they honoured the gods. These are their symbols,” she argued.

“Yes. That’s right,” he continued. “A noble would mark his slaves to honor the god he worshipped. After Arlathan fell, the Dalish forgot.”

Her stomach dropped. He didn’t mean it...but he couldn’t be lying. Solas wasn’t the sort to lie about things he’d seen in the Fade. Slave markings?  _ The vallaslin are slave markings...we’ve had it wrong this whole time?  _ she thought to herself. After all of his stories, the things he said he’d seen in the Fade...the things  _ she’d _ seen, learned, discovered about the elves. 

“So this is...what? Just one more thing the Dalish got wrong?” she asked him defeatedly, her voice cracking. She could feel the frustration and confusion bubbling up in her belly, the pleasant mood from earlier shattered like a broken mirror.

“I’m sorry.”

She let out a deep sigh, trying to hold back the tears she could feel welling up in her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry, not over this. “We try to preserve our culture, and this is what we keep?” she said bitterly. “Relics of a time when we were no better than Tevinter?” She looked back up at him and saw the sadness in his face.

“Don’t say that. For all they got wrong, the Dalish did get one thing right.”

She looked at him expectantly, the soothing tone of his voice cooling her mood.

“They made you,” he said with a small smile. “I didn’t tell you this to hurt you,” came out in a rush. “If you like, I know a spell…”

She dropped her gaze and looked to their hands, still clasped between them. His grip had tightened while they spoke. “I can remove the vallaslin.”

“If what you’re saying is true...” she said.

“It is.”

“Then…” she swallowed. She returned her gaze up to him and responded with conviction, “My people vowed never to submit to slavery.”

With a slight frown and a small nod of approval, he replied, “I’m so sorry for causing you pain, it was selfish of me.” His hand lifted to her face again, tracing the edges of her vallaslin, and she leaned into his touch. “I look at you, and I see what you truly are...And you deserve better than what those cruel markings represent.”

As if to reassure herself, she nodded.  _ I don’t want them if it this is what they were truly meant for _ , she thought. She looked to him, a confident expression spreading across her face. “Then cast your spell. Take the vallaslin away.”

He beamed at her proudly, as if knowing it was the choice she was going to make and couldn’t have been happier that she did.

He motioned to a rock near the edge of the pond and pulled her towards it by the hand. “Sit.”

She sat down gracefully on the cold stone, nervousness bubbling up in the back of her throat. Would it hurt? Would he still think her the same without the markings? Would he look at her the same way? 

He knelt in front of her, lifting his hands in front of her face as they sparkled with the beginnings of a magic that looked not unlike veilfire, so very typical of his unique brand of magic. She closed her eyes as the light of it became too much for them, and she felt the tender graze of his hands as he brushed his hands over her face. The gentle caress of it pushed down the uneasy feeling and her face warmed with the touch of his magic. His hands came to rest on the back of her head and as his magic faded she slowly opened her eyes, immediately meeting his gaze.

His eyes glistened in the moonlight, his face full of yearning. A serene smile spread across his features as he took in her bare face. “Ar lasa mala revas. You are free.” He took her hands again and together they stood.

She touched her face with her hand curiously. It felt no different than it did before. No burning, none of the tingling sensations she was expecting. She was suddenly very self-conscious under his penetrating stare. 

“You are so beautiful.” She wasn’t expecting that. 

He stepped in closer to her, so close she could feel his breath on her skin. Her breath quickened as he leaned in, brushing her lips with his own in the most tender kiss. She curled a hand around his waist as his hand slipped down the side of her arm to rest on her hip. Her lips parted for him, and she felt his tongue gently ease into her mouth with a breathless sigh. The soft trickle of the waterfall echoed around them as she leaned into the kiss, moaning softly as his hand slowly dropped to the curve of her posterior and stayed there. The kiss was deep and passionate, and unlike anything they’d had previously, their tongues slick and warm against each other. The palpation of it made her weak in the knees. She could get lost in those lips for days, years even. 

Then almost as quickly as it had started he pulled away, the expression in his eyes changing to that of deep guilt and hopelessness.

“I am sorry,” he said, “I distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again.”

“Solas…?” she wondered aloud as his hands dropped from her to his side. What was going on? Why the sudden change?

“ _ Please _ , vhenan,” he said with a step back. 

He needed to stay. She needed him to stay. “Solas...don’t leave me. Not now,” her voice cracked again. “I love you.”

He shook his head, but whether it was at her or himself she couldn’t tell. She could almost see it written on his face that he was trying to convince himself to leave. “You have a rare and marvelous spirit. In another world-”

“Why not this one?” She followed him with a step forward and attempted to take his hand but it was out of her reach. He couldn’t do this, not here, not now. Not ever.

He continued backing away from her, his voice full of grief. “I can’t.” His hands were raised and trembling, and she was unable to tell if it was because he wanted to embrace her or push her away.

He turned then and left, disappearing into the darkness engulfing the grotto. Leaving her standing there alone, her hand half raised as if to reach out and grab him but was stunned with disbelief and unable to make her arms move. As he walked away her breath hitched in her throat as the realization of what happened crashed into her like a tidal wave. 

What happened? Was it something she said? Why--

 

\---- 

 

Ellana bolted upright in the bed with a deep breath in, her chest aching as if she’d forgotten how to breathe. Her legs were tangled in the thick warmth of the quilt around her, and she wrestled herself out of it irritably. 

“Fenedhis!” she spat out softly as she spun her legs over the edge of the bed to touch the floor. She could still feel the tears drying on her cheeks where they’d fallen in her sleep.

_ That damn dream...again… _ she thought to herself. She looked to the alarm clock on the bedside table, reading it as 2:39AM. She sighed and rose from the bed, padding over to the dresser as her enormous Dalish wolfdog noticed she was awake and bounded over to her. She pulled out a pair of jeans and slipped them on, throwing a simple sweater her mamae had knit over her sleep shirt. She pulled her hair out the back of the sweater, tucking it behind a pointed ear and pulling it over one shoulder as she looked down at the enormous animal that nearly stood even with her hips when standing.

“Want to go for a walk, Fen? I need some fresh air…” she muttered down at her pet. 

_ “Ar lasa mala revas. You are free.”  _ echoed in her head. A shudder rippled down her back and she tried to shake it off.

Exiting the bedroom, she drowsily bumped into her keyboard while reaching for the leash hanging nearby on the wall. Taking it, she attached it to Fen’s collar and grabbed her keys as she left the small, cozy apartment.

_ “You are so beautiful.”  _

She scowled as she slowly walked the path to the park behind her apartment with Fen leading the way excitedly, the night cool as autumn had started to set into the trees lining the trail. It was a calm, quiet night with naught but the sound of the breeze gently swishing through the reddening leaves of the trees. It seemed the park was deserted tonight, this late at night. She rolled her eyes as Fen attempted to smell every single flower and bench post along the path.

The dreams always left her with an aching sense of longing in her chest when she woke. It wasn’t always the same dream, but each dream she had left her with the same sense that a part of her was missing when she woke up. The dreams never lingered for long, becoming a hazy memory shelved in the back of her mind after a few hours of consciousness. Some of them lingered longer than others, long enough that she would be able to put the feelings and thoughts she’d had to pen, the collection of poetry and lyrics ever growing and solidifying the memory of the dreams.

_ “In another world-” _

_ “Why not this one?” _

A shudder pushed down her spine as she attempted not to remember and force the dream back down into fogginess. Some of the dreams were more…vivid and heartbreaking than others. Many were exciting, full of adventure wherein she was some skilled heroine, and others were more...romantic. Dreams of soft kisses and caresses that left her with an ache between her legs. Dreams of horrible things that she wasn’t sure she was even capable of imagining herself, that left her trembling in terror in their wake. 

Ellana had been dreaming of this strange man for years now with no great cost to herself other than sleepless nights and confused feelings.

Her hand came up and hesitantly traced along the lines of the vallaslin adorning her face. She always woke with tears on her face when she had this dream. The deep sense of confusion and grief she felt was palpable. The first time she’d had that particular dream, she’d woken in a cold sweat, a sob caught in her throat. She’d immediately asked her Keeper about the origins of the vallaslin and despite her best efforts, couldn’t find much information on them to support the claim the man in her dream had made. Much of the history of ancient Elvhenan had been lost to the sands of time and war. As far as her people knew, the markings honoured the ancient gods. She’d once contacted a renowned Elven specialist to see if she could help, but their search didn’t turn up with much with specifics to the vallaslin. Not that it really mattered anyway. There weren’t many Dalish clans still roaming Thedas these days, so few of of the elves had the vallaslin. She’d gotten hers as much as an act of preservation as it was to honour her chosen god. She’d wanted to make her clan proud, but then she’d left anyway.

She swallowed down her discomfort and lowered her hand as the wind picked up, blowing fallen leaves across the paved pathway. Fen stilled suddenly and she nearly walked into him. 

“What is it, Fen?” she muttered softly as she looked around cautiously. “What’s wrong, boy?”

There was a loud crack, and the air around her felt as if it was being pulled apart, pulling the breath from her lungs. A large tear formed and burned in the space in front of her and she dropped the leash, unable to believe her eyes as the dog whined and skittered away behind her.

The air simultaneously felt both electric and on fire, particles pulling apart and reforming as her hair whipped around her. The hair on her arms stood on end.  _ What the fuck?! What is this?!  _ Her eyes widened as the realization hit her, and before she could move a light shot from the rift and right into her chest, knocking her back several feet and onto her back, the force of it knocking off one of her flimsy sandals.

Ellana gasped. She struggled to breathe. Whatever had just hit her in the chest filled her lungs with fire. Slowly it started to dissipate and she heaved in a massive breathe, pulling herself upright again. The whirl of green light that she was pretty sure was magic,  _ real  _ magic _ , _ continued surging around her when suddenly it blinked out with a large explosion, the shockwave pushing her back again.

She stared up at the sky, the magic and  _ whatever that was, _ was gone. The stars were twinkling in the sky, the breeze gently sweeping over her skin, and the night continued like nothing had happened. She could hear Fen whimpering some distance behind her.

She quickly pat herself down, making sure all of her parts were still there, noticing with a grimace that several bruises were starting to form over her fair skin. She would have to tend to the few scrapes she had when she got home. With a groan, she pulled herself into a sitting position, a hand on her aching chest where the light had struck it. With a start, she scrambled to her feet when she saw the figure laying on the cold hard pavement ahead of her where the rift had blasted apart. A man. A man that most definitely had not been there a few seconds ago. 

“Savhalla?...Hello?” she called over to the figure laying face down on the ground. She could see his pointed ears even in the darkness. Definitely elf.

She took another step closer. “Can you hear me? Are you alright?”

There was no response. She turned, looking behind and around for anyone else nearby. The park was completely empty and silent, not a soul in sight. It was almost all of the sound had been turned off and was slowly returning to the area. She realized she’d left her phone back at the apartment.

Ellana turned back to the man before her and crouched beside him. He was wearing very strange armor, that upon closer inspection she realized with a shock that it was in the ancient Elvhenan style.  _ Where in Thedas did he get something like that? _ He had some sort of fur strapped over a shoulder, wrapping around his torso to the front that she had no view of. 

Well, it looked like he was breathing at least. Ignoring Cassandra’s voice in the back of her head telling her you shouldn’t move someone injured like this, she grasped one of his shoulders and hoisted the man over as carefully as she could.

She choked on her breath and stumbled back with shock when she saw his face. It was  _ him _ . The man from her dreams. Quite literally. The man she’d dreamt of even earlier this night.

Ellana’s mouth hung open, eyes wide, as she slowly crawled closer back to him to get a better look in the darkness. The same bald head, the same broad dimpled chin, the same freckles dotted across his face. There was no mistaking it.

“This...this isn’t possible,” she whispered out loud, mostly to herself than to the unconscious man lying in front of her. 

He responded with a light groan and his eyes fluttered open, eyes hooded as if he did not have the strength to fully open them. 

She closed her still openly hanging mouth with a snap, realizing that in her eagerness to examine him she’d leaned in so their faces were only inches apart. Her eyes widened more, if that was even possible. “Are you alright?” she asked him, just barely above a whisper, unsure if he had even heard her.

His eyes fluttered again and his pupils dilated as he attempted to focus on her face, his eyes filling with unshed tears as he took her in.

“Ma vhenan…?” he croaked. And just like that, he was unconscious again. 

Vhenan. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and pulled herself to her feet. 

_ Ma vhenan _ . 

She gathered him up the best her strength allowed, an arm slung over her shoulder as she started dragging him alongside her.

_ My heart _ . Her heart. 

Her heart ached in her chest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas reflects on the situation he finds himself in.

The sweet scent that couldn’t be anything other than embrium incense and the mouth watering scent of cooking food drifted through the air as he slowly came to. A quiet feminine voice was singing incomprehensibly in another room nearby, his ears straining to understand it but unable to. He heard a whimper and a wet lapping at his face, and he attempted weakly to bat it away, his hand meeting a handful of fur. He cracked his eyes open slightly, and jumped back with bewilderment at the sight of an enormous grey-brown wolf nuzzling his hand, but immediately sunk back into the cushions behind him from the bolt of pain that shot through his head at the movement.

_ Where…? _ He remembered fire. Burning. He swallowed back the sob threatening to escape his throat while the image of her ashes blowing through his fingers danced behind his eyelids. Dread shot through him and he couldn’t breathe.  _ It was all for nothing _ . He heard light footsteps rushing to his side, soft hands pushing him back into the cushions behind him as he struggled, his hand clasping onto her wrist, her voice murmuring tender nothings to him. A delicate, familiar hand was on his forehead.

“It - it was…” he choked out.

“Shh, just rest,” the voice murmured. 

“Ir abelas...ir...ir…”  _ Ir abelas _ …

He sank into darkness again.

 

\---

 

Solas regained consciousness some time later, the scent of embrium still pleasantly lingering in the air about him. He slowly opened his eyes, more cautious this time of the light shooting into his eyes from the large window beside him, wincing a little regardless. A thin sheet was wrapped around his torso, fluffy cushions supporting his head on the sofa he was lying on. After a moment he realized he’d been stripped of his armor, belts, and furs, finding that they were stacked and folded neatly on the floor nearby. He was left wearing only the simple black leggings and tunic he wore under his armor, the jawbone that’d he tied to his belt resting around his neck the way he had used to wear it in his travels with the Inquisitor. His heart clenched at the thought of her. Whoever had undressed him had known he prefered to wear it around his neck.

He stilled when he heard the melodic, lilted voice drifting in through from another room singing a soft tune that he couldn’t make out. He’d heard it before, he remembered - delicate hands and a warm voice pressing him back down to rest. He took a quick look askance, not recognizing his surroundings, and pulled himself up slowly into a sitting position. A sharp dart of pain shot through the back of his head, his hand coming to rest on the nape of his neck in an attempt to abate it. Suddenly realizing he was parched, he fumbled for the glass of water he saw sitting on the table nearby and gulped the whole thing down before taking another look around.

He was sitting in a small living area on a long, plush sofa, another smaller version of it across on the other side with a quaint knit blanket thrown over the back. A large comfortable looking armchair sat off to the side, and a very beautifully carved wooden coffee table sat in between the three pieces of furniture. An opening in the wall behind the smaller of the two sofas left a view into a room with a multitude of cabinets, and Solas surmised that it was a kitchen of some sort.

There were many strange things in the room that he wasn’t familiar with, things he’d never seen before in his long travels. An unusual, colourful stringed instrument that he had never seen before leaned against the corner beside the loveseat. A large black piece of reflective glass sat against one wall in the corner, and he wondered if it was supposed to be some sort of strange Eluvian. 

What caught his eye, however, was the large exquisitely crafted longbow perched on a hook on one wall. It looked alarmingly familiar. Before he could rise to inspect it closer, the large wolf from before came loping into the room and pounced upon him, pushing him back into the sofa. The large animal licked and slobbered all over him in its misplaced attempt at friendliness, and Solas pushed it away. The huge grey-brown wolf let out a whine and pushed it’s muzzle into his hand, not giving him much choice in the matter whether he wanted to give it affection. Solas raised an eyebrow and buried his hand in the thick, soft fur of the animal as it closed its eyes and panted contently.

“Oh, you’re awake,” came a voice, and he looked up in surprise at the lithe figure standing in a doorway nearby. He hadn’t noticed or heard her approach. He blinked slowly in disbelief when she approached and attempted to rise to his feet, but his legs gave out and he collapsed back onto the couch. 

He muttered a curse under his breath and looked at her again. Long, slender body so very typical of their kind, a petite waist and small hips. Her long hair tumbled over one shoulder, braided down the opposite side of her scalp to keep it back. The same vallaslin that he had removed from the Inquisitor adorned her face, and thick black kohl lined her eyes. Solas was speechless, his mouth gaping like a fish as he searched for words. 

He’d watched her die. Watched her crumble away into ash. How was it she was here before him, perfectly unharmed and peering at him inquisitively? He felt his heart breaking in his chest again and leapt to his feet, ignoring the pain shooting down his spine and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Oof-!” 

“Ir abelas, ma vhenan. Ir abelas...” he muttered, and he buried his face in her hair as he held her tight against him. He could smell the faint scent of her perfume, the scent of cinnamon and cedar, and the faint feminine musk that was unique to her alone. He took a deep breath, drinking the scent of it in, the rush of feelings and memories of it making his knees weak. He trembled as her arms slowly came to rest on his waist and cautiously held him, a light embrace on her part. He had her now, safe in his arms and nothing could make him let go. Not again. He could scarce believe she was here.

A few moments paused before he froze as the realization hit him. Arms. She was holding him with both  _ arms _ . He gingerly pulled away, taking a step back and took her hands in his, staring at them with an unreadable expression.  _ She has both hands. That’s impossible _ . He’d taken her left arm in an attempt to save her from the anchor, the mark of his magic that had been undeliberately bestowed upon her by Corypheus. He remembered that day vividly, the look on her face when she saw him standing by the Eluvian, dressed in his Sentinel armor with no pretenses to who he was. The Dread Wolf. The expression of sadness and unexpected acceptance she had given him had surprised him, after all he’d done to her. The way she had tried desperately to keep from crying out as the anchor consumed her and spread up through her arm only made him admire her more as she tried to be brave for him. He’d seen in her eyes how scared she was, the guard she’d crafted as the Herald of Andraste pulled down for him alone.

She looked back at him now as he lost himself in his thoughts, shuffling her feet awkwardly. He was still staring at her hand. He turned her wrists over and dropped her right hand, gripping her left hand with both of his. He felt her tug back against him discreetly in an attempt to retrieve her hand and saw the slight tug of annoyance on her lips from the corner of his eye. Unrelenting, he brought it closer to his face and inspected it closely. There was no evidence of the mark, nothing to indicate that it had ever been there to begin with. He reached out with his magic, tendrils of it wrapping around her hand as it inspected and examined her. He felt her jump a little, but kept his grip. 

No magic, no scar. Her skin was smooth and lacked the evidence of a person who’d seen many labours in their life. As he traced her hand with his fingers he saw her shiver from the corner of his eye. The calluses from long years of holding a firm grip on her bow were not present, but had the small markings on her fingertips that were typical to bards like Maryden, small calluses caused from playing stringed instruments for long hours.

He took a step back and dropped her hand as understanding started to wash over him. She wasn’t his Ellana Lavellan. She wasn’t the Inquisitor. She wasn’t the woman who had died in his arms, that had smiled and told him it was okay despite everything he had done, despite the monster he had become. He took another look around the room and the more he looked, the more strangely alien everything looked, but still with its sense of familiarity. 

He gaze turned back to her. Her finely manicured eyebrow arched slightly in response as her hand slowly retreated from his. She had the same deep, sparkling eyes of the woman he loved that he so desperately wanted to lose himself in, but he knew now it wasn’t her. She had the same lightheartedness and innocence about her that she’d had when she first arrived in Haven after the Conclave explosion. She’d lost it gradually as the years progressed, as more horrors pained her behind the veil of courage she upheld, watched it happen because of him and the choices he made - the aura of someone jaded and weighed down by hard decisions. He swallowed down his guilt.

He saw her open mouth with the purpose of speaking, but interrupted her, unable to bring himself to look into her eyes. “What is this place,” he asked in a quiet voice.

She cleared her throat, surprised at his sudden question. “You’re in my apartment--”

“You misunderstand me. Could you kindly explain what brought me here?” he asked her gently. She looked as bewildered as he felt, and felt it prudent to be patient.

The dog was bumping his wet nose against her hand for attention and she glanced at it with slight irritation, waving it away. He watched it sulk over to a plush cushion on the floor in the corner and plop down with a huff. If the situation had not been so tense, it may have been cute.

“You...there was...and then you..? To be frank I’m not entirely certain what happened,” she said with a confirming nod. He raised an eyebrow at her and rested his hands behind his back comfortably, giving her the time to explain.

“You’re in Halamshiral, capital city of The Dales. You...sort of appeared. Out of the sky. A tear in the sky. Some sort of...breach?”

He tilted his head slightly in response. “Very peculiar,” he noted. The irony in her choice of words wasn’t lost on him.

“Peculiar? How do you mean, exactly?” she replied with an exasperated look.

“Peculiar in that Halamshiral is not the capital city of anything, much less the forgotten battlefields of The Dales. What is the year?”

She gave him a puzzled look, annoyance creeping into her voice. “What are you talking about? Of course it’s the capital. Has been since it was founded nearly 1000 years ago.”

“The date?” he repeated.

“15th of Harvestmere, 9:46 Dragon”. She crossed her arms, a concerned look spreading across her face as she watched him.

Solas sighed and scratched his chin. No time had passed then. He carefully sat back down on the sofa behind him, his hands resting upon his knees.  _ What manner of place is this? _ he thought. If he indeed was in the city of Halamshiral, this was unlike any part of Halamshiral he had been in before. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought. He felt the cushion next to him sink as Ellana sat next to him, a wary look on her face. He thanked her silently for not pressing him as he attempted to sort this out. It was then that he took in her attire - long, black trousers with various tears and rips down the front that made little sense logically, hugging her curves in all of the right places, tight enough that they could be a second skin. He quirked an eyebrow at the loose black short sleeved tunic she wore, the front painted with a design he could not make out. 

She cleared her throat as he caught him staring and leaned towards him a little, some of her hair spilling over her shoulder as she did so. “If Halamshiral isn’t the capital, then what is?” she teased.

He stared at her blankly. “Is it not one of the cities of Orlais?” he asked her. “What of the Exalted March? Was this land not taken by the Chantry?” He believed he was starting to piece together his precarious situation. 

“Exalted...march? Look, I’m no master historian but I don’t think there’s been an Exalted March since Andraste revolted against the Imperium.” She leaned back as he abruptly stood and started pacing across the small living area.

“Is there a place where I could meditate for some time, alone?” he asked her as he came to a standstill, his back turned to her. He needed to think somewhere privately.

She nodded and pointed over her shoulder to the door leading to the large rounded balcony outside the large window. “You can go out there, if you like. No one will bother you there. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk again,” she said.

He nodded in affirmation and walked the few strides to the door, pulled the door open, and stepped through it onto the balcony. He paused as he looked around. The balcony was littered in various potted plants and vines, many of them filled with herbs that he recognized such as elfroot and vandal aria. A lattice of crystal grace climbed up the side of one wall. She’d made the small space into a garden worth being proud of.

Solas went to the rail of the balcony and looked down, suddenly stumbling back again at the unexpected dizzying height. Carefully, he gripped the railing and stepped forward, looking over. The balcony was several stories above ground, the people below tiny figures buzzing around, oblivious to his surprise. Small carriages whizzed past on the large, white brick roads below and Solas pondered how they were able to move with no mount to pull them, considering that he felt very little magic in the air. Great, tall buildings of glass and stone twisted up and into the sky all around him and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of it. It reminded him so very much of Arlathan and it’s tall spires crafted by magic and many millennia of ingenuity. 

He felt Ellana’s eyes watching him from inside through the window, and he stepped back from the rail and settled down on the ground, his legs crossed comfortably under him. He rested his wrists on his knees and inhaled deeply, his eyes closing as he did so. The relaxing scent of the surrounding garden calmed his senses. He reached inward and touched the core of his magic, happy to see that it was intact. The well of magic within him swirled around in his belly in response to his prodding. He then pushed his examination outwards, pressing his magic against the Veil to determine its intactness. 

He frowned when he felt his magic come to an abrupt halt, as if crashing into a wall at startling speed. He pushed his magic outward to the Veil again and received the same response. The Veil here was very thick. So thick in fact, that it was less like a curtain as it was often described, and more like a 20-foot thick fortress wall. He opened his eyes and raised a hand, palm up and focused. He willed magic to pull through from the Fade, attempting to form veil fire in his hand. With great concentration, he was able to summon a small lick of flame along his fingers, his eyes flashing with blue light in the attempt.  _ So, that is the way of it in this place _ , he thought. The Veil here was so thick that magic simply was not a simple feat to accomplish. It took the incredible power of one such as himself to even summon a small flame in his hand. It would take him a generous amount of practice to restore his full power here. 

Solas turned slightly and looked over his shoulder, seeing Ellana pressed against the window, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. He closed his fist and extinguished the flame with a smirk, turning back to his business. Judging by her reaction and the way she’d spoken of the rift that brought him here, magic was not common place in this world. Solas released a deep breath while he thought. 

It seemed in his attempt to rip down the Veil of his world, as it burned to cinders around him, that he had inadvertently punched through and created an opening into another reality altogether and been drawn through. The ancient elves of Elvhenan had been aware of worlds such as this one, places whose existence ran parallel to their very own, out of reach but there nonetheless.

He had been drawn into a world where there was little or no magic. A world where if there was no magic, there was little chance of the darkspawn having ever been created. A world not held back by hundreds of years of war and struggle and had bloomed into something else entirely. A world where there had been no Exalted March by the Chantry to reclaim the Dales. A world where the elves seemingly had a home of their own, and thrived in it. A world without the Breach, without Corypheus, where Ellana of clan Lavellan had never been imbued with the anchor.

He slowly rose to his feet and turned to the window, seeing her disappearing into another adjoining room inside. 

A world where Ellana Lavellan, his heart, still lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if the first couple chapters feel a little slow, the first few need to set the scene a little before diving in.
> 
> Thank you to those who commented and dropped kudos! You seriously made my day <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Ellana find out a little more from Solas about where he came from.

Ellana watched Solas’s back as he turned and exited onto the balcony. She sat comfortably on the sofa beside the window, half turned to face him. Fen jumped up onto the couch as well despite her annoyance, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he made himself comfortable. She gave up trying to push him down and buried her hands in his scruff, turning back to watch Solas outside. Her heart jumped into her throat a little at the sight of him leaning heavily over the rail, and nearly got up to go see if he was alright before settling back down when he stepped back from the edge and sat down comfortably amongst her garden.

Her little garden was one of the only places in the city where she felt at ease, having grown up amongst the old nomadic Dalish clans still roaming Thedas. She’d sown each of the plants growing on the balcony herself, each lifeform a connection to the earth. Sure, Halamshiral was a beautiful city with an abundance of plant life of its own, but only in her private little world could she dig her fingers into the dirt and really connect to it. Whenever she felt homesick, she would go out on the balcony and busy herself with pruning and watering her plants, each leaf and blossom a forming bond of its own. 

Solas sat out there now, the man who’d mysteriously popped out of thin air and into her life. She watched him, her eyes widening as the air around him started to move and almost seemed to shimmer around him. She could practically see the magic glinting in a phosphorescent light around him. The muscles in his back were taut with concentration, his tunic doing very little to hide the hard line of his back. Ellana’s fingers twitched with the need to ease out the tension from his shoulders. He slowly raised a hand palm up, and she watched as slow, green flame sprouted and licked around his fingers as it danced around his hand. She bolted upright, pressing herself against the glass in what she imagined was a ridiculous fashion to observe more closely. He must have sensed her, for he turned and slightly turned to look over his shoulder at her, his eyes flashing blue. With a smirk, he closed his fist and extinguished the flame, turning back away from her. 

Ellana sat back, stunned, her mouth hanging open. That was magic, real magic. She’d thought that maybe the wild explosion she’d experienced the night before was maybe a dream or hallucination, that she’d only seen what she wanted to see. Ellana had never seen real magic before, she doubted anyone had in a very, very long time. Magic was supposed to be a folk tale, a fantastical story made up to make people feel better about their squalid lives in reality. Old Elvhen ruins and texts discovered in archaeological digs spoke of magic, but if magic had ever really existed surely someone would have found proof by now. The witch hunts of the Black Age had slaughtered hundreds looking for proof of magic and lycanthropy, and in the end none had ever been discovered. So many people had died for nothing.

A nervous feeling rose in her throat as she watched Solas, realizing that his ability to use magic had to be kept secret. If anyone from the Chantry discovered his ability to wield it, there was no telling what would happen to him. She didn’t doubt his ability to protect himself, if there was any truth to the dreams and visions she’d been having. Something as precious and special as magic would need to be protected. If the Chantry ever discovered he had magic, they would likely lock him away and experiment on him in an attempt to understand it, or worse, nullify the threat altogether. She wondered then if other mages had existed before now, or were co-existing with regular non-magic users like herself. She figured it was a possibility but that was another whole train of thought.

She jumped, startled, when her mobile suddenly started chiming. She pulled it from her pocket and checked the caller ID, then swiped the screen to answer it when seeing it was Dorian. She swiftly rose to her feet and went into the bedroom, closing the door behind her quietly.

“Hello? Dorian?” she answered.

“Hello, my dear Ellana it is me, your favorite person in all the world,” he replied.

Ellana rolled her eyes and leaned against the back of the bedroom door. “What’s up, Dorian.”

“You didn’t forget our little band practice this afternoon did you? I know our dear friends love hearing to me talk, but is there and chance you will be showing up? I’m starting to run out of excuses.” he retorted.

Ellana’s hand flew to her forehead and cursed under her breath, almost losing her grip on her phone. “Something sort of...happened, Dorian. Something big.” She’d completely forgotten, and she berrated herself inwardly for it. She was never that irresponsible.

“What sort of ‘something’? Is it a sexy sort of something? Are you finally with someone? Give me all of the juicy details,” he said. Ellana could practically see the smirk on his face. 

Her tooth worried at her bottom lip for a moment while she thought of what to tell him. In all regards Dorian was one of her closest friends, human or otherwise. She knew that if she told him in confidence what had happened that he wouldn’t repeat a word of it to anyone if she asked him to, but was unsure of whether he would actually believe the story. It was a pretty wild story, after all. She’d spoken to him about her dreams before, and he had been a very apt listener. She only worried that he would think her stark raving mad.  _ It wouldn’t hurt, I suppose,  _ she thought.  _ What’s the worst that could happen? _

“Well, Dorian, it’s hard to explain. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it to practice tonight. Do you remember the dreams I told you that I’ve been having?” 

She tugged on her earlobe nervously and played with the piercing there while she waited for him to respond. “Yes of course, such a thrilling tale of adventure and romance. What of it?”

She swallowed. “Do you remember the man I told you of? The Elvhen?”

“Yes…” he drawled out. She imagined he was probably curling his moustache between his fingers right about now.

“He’s here,” she spat out. 

There was a pause before Dorian continued, “Whatever do you mean he’s ‘here’?”

It all started coming out in a rush before she could stop herself, “I was taking Fen for a walk last night and then there was this strange light and an explosion and then there wasn’t and he was there but he was hurt, and it was  _ him _ and I didn’t know what else to do so I brought him home with me,” she gasped out all in one breath.

Dorian was silent on the other side of the line for what felt like an eternity before he spoke again. “I’m coming over.”

“Dorian, no --”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”  The line went dead and she looked at the phone in her hand incredulity and scoffed.  _ Well shit _ , she thought.

Solas was on the other side of the door when she opened it, and she started a little in surprise, taking a step back to steady herself. She caught his gaze wandering over her head into the room behind her, a curious expression on his face. “Were you talking to someone?” he asked her.

She nodded in response. “Yes, my friend Dorian is coming over. I think he’s worrying I may have gone a little crazy,” she said with a nervous chuckle. A realization hit her and her nervous giggle continued as she awkwardly held up her cellphone for him to see.  _ “ _ Oh Creators, you must have thought I was talking to myself. This device lets you talk to people over long distances,” she explained.

He nodded at her slightly in understanding and stepped back so she had space to exit to the living room. “Like a sending crystal, then?” he asked her as she stepped past him out of the bedroom. Her arm brushed his as she walked past and attempted to dig down the spark of excitement she felt. 

“Yes, exactly. But our technology here...it doesn’t use magic, it runs on electricity harvested from various natural sources. I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that we don’t have magic here.”

His brow furrowed slightly as he wrapped his mind around the idea. 

“Where did you come from, exactly? Are you really here? You were supposed to be just a dream…” she suddenly whispered, her back turned to him. She half expected him to disappear if she turned around, suddenly aware that he was a figment of her imagination.

She felt his hand hover near her shoulder as if to touch her, but it retreated back to his side before it did. “Yes, da’len. I am really here. It seems that when I…” he paused. She turned back to him then, a brow arched in waiting. “It seems that when I pulled down the Veil, it opened a hole into another reality, one very much like mine but different in many ways. I was pulled through.”

“You’re really him, then? Fen-Harel...Solas…?” He gave her a bewildered look, hands coming to clasp behind his back in a tense posture.

He nodded, unable to say anything in his surprise.

“I see.” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and looked into his stormy grey-blue eyes, a stoic expression on his face. “You know me, don’t you,” she stated more than asked.

He breathed in deeply and for a second she thought she saw something shimmer past in his eyes, a small crack in his mask quickly covered up again in a split second. “Yes.”

She opened her mouth to speak but was quickly silenced by the thunderous pounding on the front door of her apartment. Fen leapt from his comfortable seat on the sofa and ran to the door, barking madly at the presence on the other side.

“Ellana! If you don’t open this door right now I swear I’ll-”

Ellana growled under her breath, stomped over to the door, and swung the door open, holding back Fen by the collar. The dog pounced around excitedly at the sight of Dorian, unable to decide whether he wanted to slobber all over Dorians face or spin in circles. 

Dorian waltzed into the apartment, unphased by the enormous wolf bounding around him like it was a regular occurence. Ellana closed the door behind him. “So where is he then?” he drawled, looking about and spotting the tall elf standing in the living room. He sauntered over to him and pressed a finger into Solas’s chest, a displeased look marring his otherwise handsome face. “I don’t know who you think you are, but if this is some kind of sick joke then I’ll have you know I am very skilled in the Tevinter martial arts.”

Solas glanced down at the finger prodding into his chest and sneered, casually smacking the hand away from him. The man was wearing a well-pressed black, short sleeved button up shirt that had the top few buttons undone, revealing the edge of a tattoo underneath. A thick wool jacket with opulent gold embroidery hung from the hand that hadn’t been poking him in the chest.

Ellana pulled on Dorians arm gently, attempting to pull him away. “Dorian, really. It’s not a joke. It’s really him,” she pleaded. “I swear I’m not crazy.”

Dorian dropped his jacket and cupped Ellana’s face in his hands, squishing her cheeks together, making sure to have Solas in his peripheral vision to the side. “Ellana, love, I know you believe it to be true, but nonetheless that doesn’t  _ make _ it true. You can’t go about picking up stray puppies on the street!”

Ellana and Solas scowled simultaneously, and Dorian fidgeted uneasily a bit at the sight of it. She swatted his hands away and went into the kitchen. She opened a cupboard above the fridge and pulled down a full bottle of amber liquor and plopped it down heavily onto the coffee table. “Sit,” she gestured toward the couch, giving Dorian a hard stare. She retrieved three glasses from another cupboard as he settled down onto the couch. “You too,” she said to Solas, who was still standing tersely with a scowl to his face. She rolled her eyes and flopped into the large armchair near the head of the coffee table.

Solas stood for another moment, still clad in his black under tunic and leggings, before slowly moving to the loveseat to sit down. She poured each of them a drink and immediately threw hers back, the whiskey burning her throat on the way down. She poured herself another one as Dorian threw back his as well. She was going need  _ a lot  _ of these drinks to get through this, she surmised.

Dorian grimaced as he stared into the bottom of his glass. “Maker, Ellana, you couldn’t get the good stuff? You know I don’t like Fereldan whiskey.”

Ellana shrugged and drank down her whiskey. She looked to Solas, who hadn’t touched his glass. His posture was tense, leaning his forearms on his knees with his hands clasped before him. He was staring at the glass with a wary expression. She cleared her throat and looked at the glass pointedly. He seemed to decide whatever it was he was struggling with then, and let out a deep breath. Solas raised the glass to his lips and slammed it all back at once, glaring at Dorian over his glass as he did so. He coughed and sputtered as it hit his throat, a grimace forming on his lips. He covered his mouth with his hand in an obvious attempt to keep down the drink. Long fingers gripped his chin and he looked at Ellana. “That was...quite foul,” he remarked.

Ellana giggled and poured him another one, a slight flush forming on the tips of her pointed ears. She poured them all another round, but sipped on this one a little more slowly this time.

Dorian huffed and glared at Solas from across the coffee table. A few moments passed as they stared at each other heatedly, Ellana glancing back and forth between the two of them as she nursed her drink. “So who are you, really? Some paramour with the grande idea of whisking our dear Lavellan away from us?” Dorian asked.

Solas ground his teeth but said nothing as he took another sip of his drink.

Ellana groaned and rested her forehead in the palm of her hand. She knew Dorian was only being protective of her but this was silly. She was in no danger from Solas, but she knew Dorian wasn’t aware of that. From his perspective, he was some random stranger she’d let into her home. When she looked at it from his point of view, she figured it would probably be a hard story to believe. Dorian was the sort that only believed what he could see.  _ That’s it!  _ she thought. If she couldn’t persuade him to believe her, she would show him.

She edged forward in her seat towards Solas, the glass in her hand now nearly empty. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she leaned towards him, a devious grin on her face. “Show him,” she whispered.

Solas raised a brow and swirled his drink around in his glass before looking to Dorian then back to her, a small shrug lifting on his shoulders.

“Show me what, my dear?” asked Dorian, exasperated. 

Her head whipped around to face Dorian and then back to Solas. She unknowingly pulled her lower lip into her lip to bite at it gently, but noticed the trail of his gaze as she did so and quickly released it. Her cheeks flushed slightly in her slight inebriation and she leaned in towards him again. “Show him what you did with the flame.”

Solas scoffed and leaned back in annoyance. “I am not some trained animal that you can command to do tricks whenever you please,” he growled.

Ellana’s shoulders slumped. That hadn’t been her intention. She only wanted him to show Dorian his magic, to help him understand. “I’m sorry, Solas. That -- I mean -- I only want Dorian to understand,” she said with a sigh.

Solas’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he took in her words. He let out a deep breath and set his drink down on the table. She watched as he stretched out his hand palm up, and started to pull magic into his hand, willing the flame appear. She could practically feel the magic swirling and pulling around them as it settled in his hand, the green flame materializing around his fingers. His jaw clenched with the strain of it, his eyes flashing blue as he maintained the spell before releasing it.

Her eyes flicked over to Dorian to gauge his reaction, her glass posed to her lips as if to take a drink. Dorian blinked slowly before erupting into laughter, his hand slapping on his knee. “That’s good! That’s a good trick! How did you do it, hidden lights? Mirrors?” he asked jokingly. 

The stare Solas gave him could have cut through walls and made her shudder. She watched him pick up his near-empty glass and held it up so that Dorian could see it clearly. His elbow perched on his knee with the glass raised, and she felt the pull of magic again as it settled around the glass. She watched in awe as frost built up on the outside of the glass, then the liquid inside it. The amber whiskey inside started to slowly solidify and in the blink of an eye the entire contents of the glass were frozen and frosted over. He set the glass down on the table and slid it across the table, a smirk playing across his lips.

Dorian caught the glass as it slid toward him and yanked his hand back as it touched the cold glass, shaking off the chill. His mouth hung open, gaping like a fish, as he stared at the glass, then Solas, then Ellana, then the glass again. 

Ellana was watching Dorian expectantly, a hopeful look on her face. He reached for the whiskey bottle and took a long pull from it before setting it back down. “Well that was…” he started, “...positively astonishing. How is this possible?” He smoothed down his moustache with thumb and finger, looking to Solas for answers.

Solas glanced to Ellana and she nodded to him approvingly. “I am not of this world. I arrived here from a different reality, although, it seems this place is not too dissimilar from where I am from,” he said. He maintained eye contact with her and she felt as though he was speaking to her more than to Dorian.

She took another sip from her drink, the warmth of it rushing down into her stomach pleasantly. “What do you mean, exactly?” 

“While this world has many similarities with my own, it seems that history itself has diverged down a different path. One in which there is no magic, and yet, the people and places have not  entirely changed.”

“So you did know the other me, then. The one from your timeline?”

Solas paused before looking directly into her eye. “Intimately.”

She felt her face warming. He hadn’t broken eye contact with her. Dorian shifted uncomfortably at the exchange. He lifted his finger as if to say something, but then changing his mind, dropped his hand and looked into his drink. 

She took a deep breath and dropped her gaze to her hands on her glass. “I know,” she spit out, “I...I have dreams about it. About her, you, Dorian, everyone.”

“For how long?” Solas asked, still staring at her intensely.

“Close to 5 years now.”

Dorian suddenly lurched to his feet, the whiskey in his glass sloshing onto his hand at the abrupt movement. He set down the glass and straightened his shirt. He leveled a stare at Solas and Ellana’s eyes widened. “I presume you will be staying here until you figure out however you’re going to get back home?” Dorian asked.

Ellana blinked, comprehension overwhelming her. She hadn’t considered that. She’d made the silent vow to herself to protect him from being found out, but had not thought through how to go about doing that. He had no friends or family here aside from her, no money. Nowhere to go. She couldn’t very well throw him out onto the streets knowing who and what he was. 

She interrupted Solas before he could say anything, “He will stay here.”

Dorian huffed and set his hand on her shoulder. “Is that wise? You barely know this man, and--”

“Dorian, he’s staying here. He won’t be safe on the street. If he’s truly the man I’ve been dreaming of, I have nothing to fear. I’ll be alright.”

Solas lowered his eyes to the floor. He leaned his forehead in his hand and stared at the floor. She thought it a bit strange but stood and turned to Dorian. “Really, I’ll be okay.”

Dorian nodded and pat her shoulder affectionately. He stumbled over to where he had left his jacket on the floor. Fen had taken up residence on the soft wool, and it took Dorian a few tugs to free it from underneath him. He pulled the jacket on, mumbling under his breath about the wolfs audacity of shedding all over his coat. “Well my dear, I know there’s no changing your mind. I better be gone, places to do and people to be as it were.”

Ellana rolled her eyes and laughed at his verbal fumble and rose to see him out. She clutched the arm of the chair as a rush of lightheadedness hit her and realized she’d drank way too much too fast. She saw Dorian out and slumped against the door briefly as it closed behind him. 

She sauntered back into the living room to see Solas still sitting slumped on the loveseat, his head in his hand, staring at the floor. There was a look of deep sadness haunting his face and it nearly broke her heart to see it. She flopped down into the space beside him as gracefully as she could, but bumped into him in her inebriated state regardless. Solas’s head shot up as if suddenly realizing she was there, and her breath hitched in her throat at the melancholy she saw in his eyes, however brief it lasted before he stitched his facade back together. 

She lightly touched his knee with her fingers and tilted her head. “Are you alright?” she asked him quietly. She imagined it must have been quite a shock for him to have ended up here.  _ This place must seem so strange to him, _ she thought,  _ so different but still the same. I don’t know how I would deal with it if I were in his position. _

He said nothing and laced her fingers on his knee with his own. When she looked up from their hands on his knee, she found him gazing at her with an unreadable look in his face. His eyes were flitting between her eyes and her lips, the distance between them slowly closing. She breathed deep, the scent of whiskey lingering on his breath clouding her judgement. A voice in her head told her this wasn’t right, that it wasn’t her that he wanted to kiss, and she leaned back away from him. She turned her face away just as his nose brushed her cheek and nuzzled into her neck. Her breath caught in her throat as he remained there, breathing in her scent. It had been a long time since anyone had touched or held her in this way and she so desperately wanted to return the gesture. The warmth of the whiskey was shooting straight through her to uncomfortable places.  _ This isn’t right, he wants  _ her _ , not me, _ she idly thought.

“Ir abelas…” he whispered faintly into her neck. She stilled and waited for him to continue, “I only…” She could barely hear him over the sound of her own heartbeat thumping in her ears. Some time passed and neither of them said anything, comfortable enough in their silence that there was no need to speak. Solas remained burrowed in her neck and hair and she made no move to remove him from it. After awhile, she noticed his breathing start to deepen and even out and realized he was likely falling asleep. She stood slowly, his head dipping momentarily at the loss of her shoulder, and she pulled him to his feet. Solas stared back at her wearily, his eyes hooded. She pulled him over to the larger sofa where the blanket and pillows were still set up from before and pushed him gently down onto it.

She forced him down into a lying position, making sure his head was resting comfortably on the pillows, and blanket pulled up over his chest. Solas watched her all the while, never moving his eyes from her face. “You can sleep here, tonight,” she spoke softly, “I’ll be in the bedroom if you need me.”

She rose to leave and his hand weakly clasped onto her wrist. “Stay,” he silently asked her. After a moment she nodded once and settled in at the other end of the couch, pulling his feet into her lap. Making sure the blanket was covering both of them, she reclined back into the couch in a half-sitting position. 

He was still watching her when she finally fell asleep.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to every one who leaves comments and kudos! I might not respond to comments but I very much love reading them. <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana takes Solas shopping in preparation to a trip to Redcliffe. 
> 
> Warning: This chapter is mildly NSFW.

Solas watched from the cover of foliage as Ellana gripped the long slender sword in her right hand, his wolf eyes fixed on her as she trained. Sweat dripped down her neck as she grit her teeth and swung the sword in a wide arc, Cullen glancing the blow with his own sword. Over and over she swung the light one-handed sword, a dance of steel and leather unleashing itself upon the Commander as he blocked the blows with ease.

“Keep your left guard up,” shouted Cullen.

She swung again, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

“That’s better, but don’t let your right guard fall too.”

Ellana’s feet dug into the ground, the sound of steel clashing together ringing in the air as she spun in a wide arc.

“Good,” said Cullen. She panted, her sword slowly lowering, the sharp tip pushing into the plush grass below her feet. “You’ve improved, Inquisitor.” Cullen sheathed his sword and wiped his brow on his sleeve.

Ellana lowered herself to the ground slowly, letting her sword rest on the ground beside her. She reached for her canteen nearby, catching the edge of it with a finger and pulled it closer. She picked it up and took a long drink from it before dumping the rest of its contents over her head. She’d cut her hair, Solas observed. She’d never kept her hair much longer than shoulder length during the war against Corypheus. Her long, waving hair had been cut short, nearly buzzed in the back but still longer in the front, spikey waves cascading over her left ear. Solas had always loved running his hands through her hair, feeling her thick tresses tumbling through his fingers, but he had to admit the short hairdo suited her. He imagined it was likely more practical for her as well.

Ellana sighed and looked at the Commander from behind the fringe hanging in her face. “When do you think I’ll be useful in combat again?” she asked him, a hint of bitterness hanging in her voice.

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and looked down. “Well, you’re improving more quickly than I --”   


“Commander, cut the crap. I need to know. Am I doing well enough that I can hold my own in a fight?” she barked.

Cullen dropped the hand from his neck and looked her in the eye. “There’s no easy answer to that. I believe you could hold your own in single combat, but if you were to become outnumbered you would be at a great disadvantage.” He lowered himself to the grass as well, settling down comfortably across from her. 

Ellana nodded, saying nothing, and her right hand grazed over the stump of her left arm. Solas lowered his gaze to the ground, guilt swirling around in his stomach. She’d lost her arm because of the mistakes he’d made, and with it he sensed she felt she had lost some part of her dignity as well. She was no longer able to hold her bow. She’d always prided herself in her archery, but he’d taken that from her. He’d taken so much. He’d never meant for it to happen, and it tore him up that it had. He wanted what was best for the People, and it didn’t always correlate to what he wanted for her. He’d made so many mistakes over the past years and he profoundly wished things had gone differently. He whimpered quietly in his wolf form, always unable to control his emotions as clearly as when he was in his elven shape. 

He watched on as Cullen lifted a hand and rested it on her shoulder, catching her gaze with his. “You’ll pull through this,” he said to her softly. “You always do.”

Solas heard her breath catch as she stared at the ground of their little private sparring location, suddenly aware that he was observing her having a moment of vulnerability. The wind whistled through the surrounding trees, the scent of pine and cedar lingering in the air, as silence echoed around them. Her shoulders were slouched when he heard her finally respond to Cullen. “I...I miss him, Cullen.” Solas’s eyes widened.  _ After everything that I’ve done, will do, she can still say that _ ? 

The Commander nodded in understanding, his grip on her shoulder tightening. Her back was turned to him, but he saw her lift her hand and wipe her cheek. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Cullen inquired.

Ellana was quiet for a moment. “I wish things were different,” she said. “I wish he would let me in, let me help him.” She sighed deeply. “I’m done with being angry at him.”

Cullen said nothing and let his hand slowly drop to hers, gripping it firmly in his with reassurance. Solas felt his lips pull back over his teeth, jealousy rearing up inside of him, though he knew he had no right to be. It should be him there with her, comforting her, telling her he was sorry and that everything would be okay. He wanted to brush her hair from her face, trail his fingers down her face and press his lips to her neck. He wished he could drop everything for her, he so badly wanted to. However, there were too many plans in motion, too many threads to be cut, that it couldn’t be stopped now even if he tried. There was only one last thing to do now, and he was resigning himself to the fact that he would have to do it soon. For her, for the People. To right the wrongs that he’d made. 

Ellana continued, “I know he wants the best for the People, but...I can’t help but wonder why he won’t let me help him. We want the same things, Cullen.” Her voice hitched again. “Are the things he’s doing so terrible that he thinks I still wouldn’t love him?”

Solas swallowed down his overwhelming guilt. He couldn’t let her watch him turn into a monster, wouldn’t let her watch what he had become. She didn’t know the things he had to sacrifice, he didn’t want her to. If there was one thing he could do for her, it would be to protect her from the darkness creeping up and out of him. He wouldn’t let it taint her. 

He couldn’t bear to watch her anymore, it was dredging up too many feelings that Solas had rather separate himself from. He rose to his feet slowly and quietly, being sure not to rustle the bushes he hid in. He turned and sluggishly padded away, his head down and tail lowered. Maybe one day, she would be able to forgive him, but he found that to be unlikely. 

He heard her voice echoing through the forest as he departed. He could hear the emotion lacing her voice as she mumbled, “Because I do, Cullen. I still love him. I think I always will.”

 

\----

 

Solas woke slowly, the fragments of memory still dancing on the back of his eyelids. He let out a heavy sigh. He cursed the Fade for showing him those memories, though admittedly he’d done little to change the course of his dream. He’d watched her so frequently, near the end. It had been one of his only reprieves, his only source of comfort. There had been many instances where he had almost revealed himself to her in a desperate attempt for forgiveness, but had managed to restrain himself. On the nights he didn’t visit her in the waking or in the Fade, he dreamt of her. Dreamt of the way things could have been if they were different. Dreams where they were tangled together intrinsically, bodies wrapped around each other, his face hidden in her shoulder while he buried himself inside her. Desire tempted him regularly in the Fade, showing him what he wanted to see, and he didn’t fight it. He’d given up trying to fight it long ago. His hunger for her could be overwhelming at times, the Fade was the only place he could act out his fantasies. It was times like those that he was grateful Lavellan wasn’t born a mage, for there was little chance she could stumble into his dreams of her.

Solas wet his lips and opened his eyes, noting that Ellana wasn’t anywhere to be seen and was grateful for the fact. He had woken with a tightness in his trousers that he didn’t think he’d be able to logically explain away. It never mattered if his dreams of the Inquisitor were erotic or not, they always left him with an aching that couldn’t be soothed except by her touch. 

He rose from the sofa and went to the bedroom looking for her, trying to ignore the friction of his leggings against his manhood. Ellana didn’t seem to be present in the apartment, and he noticed a small yellow piece of paper stuck to her bedroom door that read in her elegant script  _ ‘Taking Fen for a walk to get some coffee and breakfast. Be back soon.’  _ He would have to tease her later about her apt choice in naming her wolfdog ‘wolf’.

Solas returned to the sofa and sunk into it, trying to shake off the remaining residue of sleep and arousal. He frowned and looked down at the erection still straining in his pants with annoyance. He rubbed his eyes with slender fingers and scowled. The memory of her short hair bouncing around her face as she trained with the Commander returned to his vision. Her short breaths filled his ears and he felt the blood draining from his face to other parts of his body. He imagined that was what she also sounded like in the throes of passion. Their relationship had never progressed so far that he’d know her voice of passion first hand, he hadn’t let it. On multiple counts, it had taken every ounce of his free will to pull away from her and stop himself from making love to her.

In the dream, he had wanted to reach out and tuck the waves behind her pointed ear. He still did. He could almost imagine the softness of her hair between his fingers, the scent of it filling his senses. Where he sat, he could still smell the scent of her cinnamon and cedar soap lingering on the cushions where she’d slept at his feet. He remembered her small hands gently easing his feet into her lap before getting comfortable, could remember the feel of her soft fingers tracing over his skin absently as she fell asleep. 

He groaned in frustration, surrendering to his loneliness as his hand crept down and into his pants. He let out a deep sigh as his hand wrapped around his erection and stroked lazily. He missed her terribly. He missed the way she giggled and laughed when he caressed the sensitive spot on her ribs, and imagined himself doing it now. Her braided hair would fall over her shoulder and tickle his face as he pressed kisses into her neck. He would feel her tremble under his hands as he ran them down her sides to her hips, and back to grab a handful of her beautiful, firm rear end. His hand stroked himself more quickly now as he imagined her grinding down onto him as he kneaded his fingers into her ass, and whimpered wishing it was true. It didn’t even matter any more that he was no longer imagining the Inquisitor with her short hair, like he had so many times before. It didn’t matter that the face of the other Ellana blended in with hers, for they were one and the same and in this moment he didn’t care. He wanted to kiss them both, run his tongue over her lips and delve into her mouth. 

Solas jumped and scrambled to throw the blanket over his lap when Ellana suddenly returned without warning, Fen short on her heels. She stepped into the living room and stopped short, a small cardboard tray with two cups and a small paper bag balanced in one hand. Solas felt his face flushing red and stared at her.  _ Fenedhis, did she see? _ he thought. The large wolf pranced over and nuzzled Solas’s hand in his lap as he attempted weakly to push him away. Her eyes took in his unkempt appearance, her eyes twinkling with mirth. She snickered and placed the tray she was holding on the coffee table before him.

Solas covered his lap with the blanket as discreetly as he possibly could and looked from the tray to her face, feeling like a young man again, caught in the act. His ears burned even more, if it was possible, when she made eye contact with him. She raised a brow and sat on the loveseat across from him. If she knew what he’d been up to, she didn’t let on that she did. Solas sighed inwardly and reached across to take the cup she was holding out to him. 

He sniffed at it and took a small sip, instantly regretting the decision. Though it had a pleasant, almost nutty scent, it was very bitter and he had to force down the mouthful he had taken. The foul flavour instantly did wonders to quell the throbbing between his legs.

She laughed again and took a long drink from her own cup, humming in contentment. “I take it you’ve never had coffee before?” she asked him.

He shook his head and grimaced, but took another drink anyway. He’d heard of coffee of course, it was one of the top Antivan exports, though he’d never tried it. He found tea to be disgusting in its own right, and had figured coffee would likely be just as disgusting to him. However, as he took another sip from the bitter drink, he could feel his lingering drowsiness slipping away as he came to fuller consciousness. The small headache that had been pestering the back of his head slowly abated as the drank from their cups in silence.

“Oh! I also got us breakfast. I hope you like eggs and bacon,” she said as she opened the small brown paper bag and pulled out a wrapped sandwich. He took the offered sustenance as she took one for herself. They sat quietly as they ate. Solas stared down at his sandwich as they sat, feeling her eyes glance up at him periodically. He wasn’t sure what to say to her, despite the dozens of thoughts that flit through his mind. So many things he wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her he was sorry. Wanted to apologize for leaving her all those years ago, for lying to her, for taking her arm, for hurting her, for hurting the ones she cared about. He wanted to tell her that she had been right, that he should have listened to her. However, when he looked at her now, he felt it may fall on deaf ears. She wasn’t the same Ellana that he wanted to apologize to. It wasn’t  _ her _ forgiveness he wanted. It wasn’t  _ her _ forgiveness he needed. He wanted to throw himself at the feet of the Inquisitor and beg for redemption, for some way he could make things right again. The woman sitting before him wasn’t her, though. In many ways he saw the Inquisitor in her, and it it made his heart ache with fondness, but he knew she wouldn’t truly understand. 

He watched as Ellana shoved the last of her sandwich into her mouth all at once, following it with a long slurp of coffee. He smirked. At least some things didn’t change. 

“So, I should probably tell you...we need to leave for Redcliffe tomorrow, so we need to go out and get you some actual clothes to wear,” she said.

Solas quirked an eyebrow and gave her a puzzled look. “What is wrong with my apparel?” he asked.

“Well, where we’re going, you’re going to need a change of clothes. You can’t exactly go about wearing the same clothes every day. And the armor certainly doesn’t fit in with modern standards, does it.”

Solas huffed and finished off his sandwich. “Why do we need to go to Redcliffe?”

“As the public face for Inquisition for Thedas, I’m being sent to the refugee camp in Redcliffe to aid in the relief efforts, and I wouldn’t feel right leaving you here alone.”

Solas blinked. “Inquisition for Thedas?”   


“Yes.”

“Relief efforts?”

“Yes.”

He raised a brow curiously. 

Her eyes widened and she smiled. “Right. Inquisition for Thedas...it’s a non-profit organization that I work for in my spare time. We provide relief to refugees from the war between Tevinter and the Qunari, amongst other things.”

Solas’s head spun, and he put his head in his hand. This was far too unusual to be pure coincidence. The similarities between his reality and this one were shocking. 

“Solas...are you alright?” she asked him tenderly. 

He nodded and took a long drink from his coffee, sputtering at the bitterness of it. “It is startling how alike this realm is to my own, whilst being so very different,” he told her. “It will take some time to adjust, I think.” It would also take some time for him to regain some measure of magical strength in this realm as well, he mused wearily.

She smiled at him and stood, discarding her empty coffee cup on the table as she went into the bedroom. “I think I have some of Dorian’s clothes that you can borrow for now,” he heard her say from the other room. “They’ll be a little big for you, but it’ll be warmer than what you’re wearing now.” She returned a moment later with a bundle of dark clothes in her hands and dropped them onto the sofa beside him. She gestured towards the clothes for him to peruse, and then disappeared back into the bedroom, the door closing behind her. 

Solas picked up the closest article of clothing and held it up. It was a simple black short-sleeved shirt made from a thin material. Solas set it back down and stood, removing his tunic. He folded it and set it down with the rest of his armor still laying on the floor beside the sofa. He straightened and picked up the t-shirt, but before he could slip it on, Ellana reappeared in the bedroom doorway in a fresh change of clothes and a pair of leather boots in hand. Solas paused, awkwardly caught without a shirt on. 

“Um…” she muttered. Whatever she was going to say had been wiped from her mouth as she stood gaping at him. He could feel her eyes roam over the broad expanse of his chest and he shifted stiffly, suddenly very aware of his position. He was taller and broader than most modern elves, he knew. It had been one of the many things the inquisitor had found captivating about him. Even now, he could feel Ellana’s eyes wandering over the muscles of his abdomen and he flushed with embarrassment. 

Solas cleared his throat and quickly pulled the shirt over his head, breaking the spell. Ellana’s eyes widened, realizing she’d been staring, and the tips her ears went a soft shade of pink. She turned to allow him to finish dressing with some semblance of privacy. He quickly pulled off his leggings and dressed in the black trousers Ellana had given him. Although Dorian was a taller, slightly stockier man than he was, the pants still clung to his legs tightly. He took a second to study the remaining article of clothing and rolled his eyes inwardly.  _ Do these people wear nothing but black? _ he surmised, and pulled the thick cowled sweater over his head. 

He cleared his throat again when dressed, and Ellana nodded. “We’ll walk over to the boutique, it isn’t far,” she noted. “You’ll need to put these on.” She tossed the pair of boots to his feet and he frowned. Noticing his frown, she laughed, “I don’t like wearing them either, but the ground is solid concrete and you could step on something sharp.”

She grabbed her patched up leather jacket off a nearby hook as he begrudgingly put on the boots, and pointedly looked at Fen when he attempted to follow. “Stay,” she cooed. The dog huffed and lowered itself to the floor. Solas followed behind her silently. 

When they were out in the hall, she turned abruptly and Solas bumped into her, a hand raising to her shoulder to steady her. “By the way,” she started,. “Don’t use your magic in public, we don’t know how other people could react. It could be dangerous for you,” she said in a hushed whisper. 

“Of course,” he replied. 

Ellana took the lead and Solas followed her dutifully out of the apartment and onto the street. He paused briefly to stare at the impossibly tall glass and stone buildings reaching up into the sky. They were all so uniquely elven and not-elven in design, and he pondered over the evolution of elven architecture in this timeline. 

Realizing that Solas had stopped some distance behind her, Ellana turned and her fingers gently slipped into his hand, pulling him along. He turned and the smile gracing her face as she pulled him along was nothing short of stunning. Suddenly much more at ease than he was a moment ago, he followed alongside her, taking in the sights. Neon lights glowed in shop windows, water trickled down small fountains, elves of all shapes and sizes passed by him in a blur. Some were marked with vallaslin, though he noted that there were much fewer of them than there were unmarked elves. The occasional non-elf passed by them in the sea of people on the sidewalk, but Solas was finding himself moved by the sheer number of elves on the street. An elven woman sat at a cafe table with her paramour, laughing with mirth at something funny he’d said. A small elven child chased after his mother, trying to peek into the stroller she pushed before her. A group of teenage elves stood in a circle outside of a shop laughing and talking in their school uniforms. Solas chuckled, seeing that no, not everyone here wore black.

He hadn’t seen such a congregation of elves in one place since Arlathan. Ellana squeezed his hand with hers, as if sensing his bewilderment. Her reassuring touch calmed him immediately, his chest swirling with pride. The elves had done well here, they had flourished. So much better than he could have ever hoped for in his world. This was the life he had wanted for the People. All he had ever wanted for his people was a place to call home, a safe place where they could grow and blossom into the great people he knew them to be. 

They had done that here. Without his help. Without him, without magic. 

As advanced and cultured their society seemed however, they were still being affected by the quickening. Solas’s stomach clenched. If any elves deserved to live immortal lifetimes, it was these ones. These elves that had crafted such a beautiful city without the luxuries of magic and time. He looked at Ellana out of the corner of his eye and sighed inwardly, knowing that she would never live the long immortal life of one of the Elvhen. Not unless he pulled down the Veil again, and he didn’t think he could do that, not again. Knowing what it had done in his world, knowing how the world had burned, he couldn’t do it. Not to this world, not to these beautiful elves, not to his Ellana. He wouldn’t make that mistake again, he refused to.

Ellana abruptly stopped and turned to the boutique they stood outside of. “This is it,” she said. “A friend of mine runs her fashion line out of this place so I get a large discount.” She shot him a charming grin, and pulled him into the store. He realized then that she was still holding his hand, and lightly caressed her palm with his thumb. 

“Vivienne, are you here?” shouted Ellana into the seemingly empty shop. The shop was lined with rows and shelves of multitudes of different clothing; most of it in muted, darker colours. 

A tall, slender human appeared from a room behind the counter, a demure smile creeping onto her lips. “Lavellan, my dear, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Ellana released his hand and motioned to him. “My friend here requires a new wardrobe. He’s visiting from out of town, but I’m afraid they lost all of his luggage at the airport.”

“Oh heavens, that will not do, will it. Bring him here, let’s get started.”

Solas crossed his arms and nodded, inwardly observing the white blazer and strapless top complimented her dark complexion nicely. Madame de Fer had always been the epitome of fashion and elegance, so it was no surprise to him that she owned a shop such as this. What did surprise him, however, was Ellana’s uncanny ability to draw in the same companionship that she had in his world. One could almost argue that it was fate. He wondered if there was some master puppeteer watching him, pulling their strings and bringing them together in some sort of fantastical story of irony. 

Vivienne and Ellana led him over to a rack of mens clothing, and before he knew what was happening the both of them were laughing and chatting, piling clothes into his arms until he could barely see over it. 

“Will you be coming to the show to watch us play when I get back from Redcliffe?” he heard Ellana ask.

“Of course, my dear! I couldn’t possibly miss seeing you strut around on stage in one of my creations now could I?” Vivienne replied. Ellana laughed in response, and dumped more clothing into his arms. Solas wondered what they were talking about, Ellana hadn’t mentioned anything to him past visiting Redcliffe.

He was dragged over to a small changing room, and was dumped into the small room to try on the clothing.

“Just try it on Solas, and make sure it fits,” he heard Ellana’s voice through the curtain giving him privacy. “Don’t worry too much about what it looks like.”

“Very well,” he replied, and got to changing into the various articles of clothing. 

After a few moments of dressing and undressing, he paused when he looked at himself in the mirror. He leaned toward the curtain and called out to Ellana. “Are these breeches intended to have so many holes in them?” he asked.

He heard her giggling, then respond “Yes, Solas. It’s the style.”

“Indeed,” he muttered. 

Another change of clothes and he studied himself in the mirror again. “Is this tunic meant to be so..spacious?”

More giggles, and a moment passed before he heard Ellana collect herself. “Yes, Solas. Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you come out and show me how it looks?”

Solas pulled the curtain back and stepped out from the changing room, the tips of his ears red.  _ This is ridiculous _ , he thought.  _ I might as well be letting a seamstress poke her pins into me _ .

Ellana’s breath caught and she nearly squealed with delight at the sight of him. He frowned and crossed his arms. He’d exited the dressroom wearing a pair of much too tight, dark grey breeches, an overly-large beige long sleeved shirt, and an unbuttoned warm olive green, cardigan that hung loosely around his hips. He’d left his wolf-bone necklace on, refusing to remove it. 

“You look wonderful, Solas,” she breathed. He could feel his face warming and he looked to his feet with embarrassment. He wasn’t normally so shy, but the way she was looking at him stirred feelings in him that he’d been attempting to force down for some time. Every time she said his name, his  _ true _ name, made his stomach flutter.

“Are we done here?” he asked her without looking up.

“Just a couple more things. Here, try this on.” She handed him a large sheepskin jacket with fur trim collar, and he slipped it on. The interior of the jacket was lined with plush fur, and admittedly it was very nice and comfortable. It reminded him of the one he used to wear during his travels with the Inquisitor. 

“Ooh, that looks really nice on you,” she noted, and handed him pair of boots. “Try these on, let me know how they fit. We can get you another size,” she quipped. “I wear the same brand. I hate wearing shoes, and these are the most comfortable ones I’ve found. They’re nice and soft on your feet.”

Solas sighed and morosely pulled the boots onto his feet. She was right, they were very comfortable despite being complete and utter prisons for his feet. 

“Are you ready, my dear?” Vivienne called to Ellana from the counter where she was waiting.

“Yes, Viv, I think so.”

“You can leave with the clothing you’re wearing, darling, I think it suits you much better than what you came in with,” assured Vivienne to Solas. He nodded silently. He gathered up Dorians’s clothes and folded them to return later. 

Ellana gathered all of the articles of clothing, and piled it onto the counter beside Vivienne. Before long, all of their purchases were folded up in quaint little bags and Ellana was waving to Vivienne as they left. “See you next week, Viv!” 

“Au revoir,  chéri ,” she replied cheerfully. 

Solas was grateful for the jacket when they stepped back outside, the cool autumn air hitting him in the face. 

“Alright Solas, you’re all good to go,” stated Ellana, a smile gracing her face. “Are you ready to go on a little adventure tomorrow?”

Solas teased a rare smile. “With you, always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally didn't intend for this chapter to be NSFW, but alas, that's how it ended up. As always, I love hearing your comments and critiques!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana and Solas head to Redcliffe to volunteer at a refugee camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW. Finally earning that E-rating.

It was that dream again. The one she’d had more frequently in the past couple years. She would be wandering aimlessly in a forest full of the largest trees she’d ever seen in her life - bigger even than the ones in the Emerald March - when she would feel eyes watching her from afar. 

She walked without direction through the forest, knowing that the wolf was following her again. The crisp smell of leaves drifted through the air and the wind picked up her hair, tossing it about her. The wolf was always sure to stay upwind of her. Maybe he thought she didn’t know he was there, but she did. Long years of training as a hunter for the Dalish before she’d left them had honed her senses well, and there was no mistaking the gentle padding of his feet on the soft earth, however quiet he was trying to be. She sauntered on directionless, not intending to really end up anywhere in particular. As she walked, the trees became more and more sparse, farther apart and less dense. Slowly columns of stone and glass sprung up in their place, as if springing from the ether itself, buildings replacing the trees, twisting up into the sky. Cobbled stone replaced grass beneath her feet. She felt the wolf slow behind her as it observed the change. 

This had never happened before. Always, she would be walking through dense forest with the wolf following silently behind her. Never before had the environment changed and melded to something more familiar. She felt a pulse in her chest and she slowed her pace, turning slowly.

The great, large wolf stood some distance down the street before her, eyeing her warily, but not approaching any further. The wind echoed through the empty street, recoiling off of the buildings surround them. They stood in silence for several moments, watching each other, unmoving, measuring one another. 

After what felt like an eternity she took a slow step toward him. Then another, and another. The wolf watched her approach cautiously. As she drew nearer, she found his size startling. He’d never let her get closer before. He was easily larger than any natural wolf, his shoulders towering above her eye level when seated. Drawing closer still, she raised her hand carefully, reaching out to touch him, but he backed up a step for every step she took forward, always just out of reach. 

Her chest was pounding twice over, as if throbbing with the ache of two heartbeats rattling against her ribcage. His six shining eyes stared back at her and it suddenly dawned on her who and what he was.  _ Dread Wolf _ . She wondered why he never let her approach him in this manner before. 

She reached her hand out again and this time, she felt the impossibly soft, black fur grazing her fingertips. “Solas…?” she whispered.

The eyes of the wolf widened in surprise and the dream melted away into blackness.

\---

Ellana woke to a cramped neck, held in an awkward position leaning against the train window while she’d dozed. She looked across to Solas across from her, still sleeping soundly. She rubbed the kink from her neck and pondered the dream. She’d had the same dream countless times now, probably more than any of the others, but never had the landscape warped and changed to reflect something more modern and familiar to her. It had always been the forest, until now.  _ The wolf...the Dread Wolf. It was him all along, wasn’t it. Why didn’t he ever let me approach him before? What changed? _ she thought. She stared at him across from her while he slept, lost in thought.

A book on Dalish history was abandoned in his lap, forgotten. It was one of the many books he had borrowed from her bookshelf at home. Her mind wandered to the events of earlier that morning and flushed with lingering embarrassment. She’d been in her room dressing after taking a scorching shower to wake her senses. Having thought the door securely closed, she had paid it no mind thinking herself in complete privacy while she slipped into her undergarments. 

Oh, how wrong she had been. Fen, being the nosy and overly-attached wolfdog that he was, had pawed and pushed open the door, loping into the room leaving her openly exposed to the elven man in the room beyond, standing in nothing but her panties and bra. Frozen in shock, she had stood there eyes wide, while Solas’s eyes hungrily raked in her nearly naked form. She had been so surprised she hadn’t even moved to cover herself. There had been a darkness in his eyes as he stared at her, a wash of desire so intense, so searing, she felt as if it was going to burn her alive. She’d realized she didn’t entirely mind his staring. The look had only lasted for a moment, however, before he strode towards the door, grasped the handle, and pulled it shut again, leaving her in moderate privacy once again. 

“Next stop, Redcliffe Crossroads. Redcliffe Crossroads is the next stop,” came an automated voice over the train intercom. 

Ellana shook the remaining drowsiness from her mind and stared out the window, watching the rolling hills and trees of the Hinterlands flying past the window, seeing the tops of tents and small outbuildings starting to peak over the horizon. The lands surrounding Redcliffe had become sanctuary and home to many refugees who had fled the war between Tevinter and the Qunari, having no other place to go. She reached over and nudged Solas’s knee with her hand gently, trying to wake him.

He woke with a deep breath, his eyes darkened with sleep, slowly connecting with hers. She smiled. “We’re almost there, we get off at the next stop.”

He nodded slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with one hand. He was wearing the handsome sheepskin jacket they’d gotten at Vivienne’s, and she admitted he looked very good in it. The fur-lined interior spread out over onto the collar and spread about his shoulders and face handsomely, his jaw-bone necklace hanging loosely between the unbuttoned jacket.

Together they departed the train and retrieved their luggage. Ellana lead the way to the refugee camp seen in the near distance, walking at a brisk pace, though Solas had no issue keeping up with her.

They were there within a few minutes, and Ellana lead the way to the central tent with Solas following shortly behind her. She passed under the rolled up flap of the tent with ease, grinning at the three figures standing behind a large table covered in maps and various notes. Solas ducked under the flap roll behind her and she heard him pause. She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled, knowing that this was likely strange for him. 

She turned back to the people at the table, grinning. “Leliana! Josie! It’s good to see you,” she remarked, taking both women into her arms for a long hug. 

“And what am I, a skinned nug?” retorted Cullen, standing with his arms crossed and teasing frown on his face.

She grinned over Josephine’s shoulder at the tall, ruggish man standing behind her, a small smile planted on his face. “Cullen, of course I’m happy to see you,” she said. “How’s Dog?” Josephine released her reluctantly.

Cullen smiled a lopsided grin and rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s doing well, thank you. Can you believe he’s almost 2 years old now? The blighted mabari never seems to stop growing,” he laughed.

Solas snorted, quickly trying to cover it up by rubbing his hand over his chin, desperately trying to pretend that he wasn’t eavesdropping on the conversation.

Cullen gave her a long look and then glanced back to the tall elven man she’d arrived with. “Well, out with it then.”

Solas dropped his hand from his chin and Ellana suddenly worried at the twinkle she saw in his eye. “It is only, I find it amusing that you named your dog...Dog. It seems you and miss Lavellan have fascinating choice in names for your animal companions. That is all.”

“W-well, I…” sputtered Cullen, “I couldn’t think of anything else to name him. It ended up...sticking.”

Leliana and Josephine shared a look, and Ellana laughed behind her hand. Sarcasm aside, both she and Cullen were guilty of giving completely apt names to their pets, having named her wolfdog the elven term for ‘wolf’. She wondered how Dorian was faring with dog-sitting. She imagined he was sufficiently covered in dog hair by now.

“I would not expect anything less, not from you, Commander,” teased Solas, his usual stoic mask in place. His hands were clasped behind his back.  _ My, he is ruthless today _ , she thought.

Cullen looked between the three women and Solas, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

Ellana’s eyes widened and she clapped her hands once before her, bringing the attention to her. “Right,” She gestured in Solas’s direction. “This is Solas, a friend of mine. You’ve never met before.” She caught Solas’s eye and cringed. She hadn’t thought this through. “He’s been staying with me, and I didn’t want to leave him back in Halamshiral by himself, so I brought him with me. The more hands to help, the better, right?” 

Leliana narrowed her eyes at her as she chuckled nervously. “Right.”

Ellana gestured back towards the three advisors and looked to Solas. “This is Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen. They manage and coordinate everything around here.

“Cullen is ex-military, Templar actually. He heads our private forces, but here they’ll be helping with construction and security. Josephine will be making sure our trade routes remain open and that the refugee camp stays well stocked. Lastly, Leliana will be keeping our communication lines open. She knows literally everything going on at all times.” continued Ellana.

“Oh you give yourself too little credit, Ellana,” spoke Josephine. She looked pointedly to Solas. “Without her, we would be quite lost and without moral compass, I’m afraid.”

She saw Solas smiling proudly at her from the corner of her eye and butterflies fluttered around in her belly.  _ No _ , she thought.  _ Push that back down. We have work to do and after all of the things that he’s done _ ...She dropped her gaze to the ground. She wasn’t sure what to think of him. She was well aware of the things that he had done in his quest to restore Elvhenan, though the memories weren’t much more than hazy dreams, out of order and mixed around like an uncompleted puzzle. She’d seen the dark look in his eyes though, the sadness and grief leaking through his mask before reigning it in, thinking she hadn’t noticed. She had, though. His decisions weighed heavily on his mind, she knew. 

Ellana cleared her throat and looked to the advisors determinedly. “So, what’s the status on the camp? Anything I should know? Where should I start?”

Cullen exited the tent, Josephine and Leliana close behind him. Ellana and Solas followed and stopped in the small clearing ahead of the tent. 

“There is much to do,” started Josephine, her dark hair framing her face beautifully. “There are many supplies to be distributed - blankets, rations and the like. The need for more accomodation is growing as well, more tents need to be erected.”

Leliana nodded and continued, “As you well know, the war is spreading south slowly, and innocent lives are getting caught in the crossfire. The refugees are coming in by the truckload. Some of them were unable to escape injury in their escape, and the infirmary is in desperate need of extra hands and medicinal supplies.”

Ellana listened aptly as they gave her instructions, and saw Solas drop his bag nearby before drifting out of her vision. Her gaze followed him and watched as he paced over to a man struggling lift his friend to her feet. The man’s friend clearly needed medical attention, her ankle bent at an unusual angle. Solas bent and took the woman’s other shoulder, looking briefly back at Ellana. She gave him a brief nod, letting him know it was okay, and he departed to assist the man take his friend to the infirmary. 

She turned her ear back to Cullen as he continued, “There are watchtowers on the borders of the camp that need assistance in their construction as well, Lavellan.” His arms crossed across his chest. “They could use a couple pairs of hands getting them erected. Having them would greatly ease the pressure on my security team.”

“Of course. I’ll get started right away. But first, is there a place where I can put our things?”

Josephine nodded and picked up Solas’s abandoned bag. “Follow me,” she said, and took off in the direction of the tent city. “I’m afraid we don’t have enough accomodation for the both of you to have your own tent, I did not anticipate you bringing someone with you, so you will have to share. Will that be satisfactory?”

Ellana blushed lightly, remembered the events of earlier that morning, still feeling not so distant in the past. “That should be fine Josie, thank you.”

Josephine showed her to the tent, and she deposited their things safely. With a deep breath, she looked in the direction of the supply tents and made off to start on her work. She had much to do. 

\---

It wasn’t until hours later that she found Solas again. She was kneeling on the ground, talking to a small group of children laughing and jumping about her. 

“Is it true that you have the most beautiful voice in the world, miss?” one little boy, no older than 8, asked her. 

She giggled and held out a small bar of chocolate for him to take. “I don’t think my dog would agree. He always insists on singing louder than me so he doesn’t have to listen,” she joked.

“Are you really from one of the Dalish clans?” another girl asked her.

“That’s right! I grew up traveling all across the Free Marches before I settled in our great elven city, Halamshiral.” She handed out more candy bars to the children.

Seeing Solas approaching, she called out and waved him over. “Solas, over here.”

A tiny young girl with pointed ears like her own tugged on her sleeve to get her attention, and she looked down at her aptly. The poor girl had soot smudged on her face and her impossibly small arm was wrapped in a sling. “Are you going to end the war, miss?” she asked in a small voice.

Ellana felt her heart drop and thought for a moment before repling to her somberly, “We’ll do everything we can, little one.”

The little girl scrunched her nose. “I’m not little,” she retorted.

Ellana laughed and tore open a candy bar wrapper for her, handed it to her, and said, “Of course not. You’re very brave.”

She saw Solas watching her from the corner of her eye, and couldn’t help but laugh a little at his appearance. Dirt was smudged on his face and clothes, and she wondered what he had been up to, so she asked him as much. She rose to her feet as the children dispersed, their interest in her lost once they had their candy.

“I was assisting the Commander’s men with the construction of the watchtowers,” he told her. “With their erection, perhaps now the camps will be safer and better protected.”

Ellana snorted.  _ Ha, he said erection _ , she thought.

Solas quirked an eyebrow at her.

_ Oh Creators, I’m so mature _ .

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. Have you eaten?” she asked him.

Solas nodded. “Yes, I have been sufficiently provided for,” he told her. 

“Then come with me,” she said. Without thinking, Ellana took his hand and started pulling him along behind her. She tried to ignore the sensation of his hand in hers, but found it difficult. His hands, though soft, were also calloused from years of wielding a staff. She found herself wondering what his hands would feel like on other parts of her, while they walked. She blinked and quickly dismissed the notion. 

After a few moments of silence, and a moderate amount of climbing up the rocky cliff face, they arrived at their destination. They stood on a small cliff amongst the thick brush, overlooking the sea of canvas tents and small outbuildings. Bronzing trees swayed lazily in the light breeze drifting between them, kicking up a woodsy scent of earth and nature. The small, twinkling lights of the camp started coming alive as the sun began to set. Ellana released Solas’s hand, realizing she was still holding it. She settled down comfortably on the flat rocky surface, her feet dangling precariously over the edge of the rise. 

Solas slowly lowered himself and sat elegantly beside her, mirroring her position. They sat amicably in silence for a time, comfortable enough in each others company that no words need be said. She dug around in her pocket and retrieved a slightly crumpled elfroot cigarette, no worse for wear. She perched the joint between her lips and dug into her pockets again, searching for a lighter, and realized she had none. Her face fell. After a long, stressful day looking into the somber, worn faces of the refugees, she really needed to relax. There was only so much she could do for these people, but it never felt like enough. She wasn’t enough.  

She let out an exasperated sigh, and tilted her head toward Solas, trying to be as demure as possible. “I don’t suppose you have a lighter, do you?” she asked sweetly.

The tips of his ears pinkened slightly as he leaned in and snapped his fingers over the end of the spliff hanging from her lips, a spark catching the end of it.

“Mh!” she exclaimed excitedly, remembering he had magic, and took a breath in, trying to catch the flame. Another snap, and the joint was lit. She took a deep inhale from it and moaned happily, her eyes shut as she tilted her head back. “That’s the stuff,” she cooed.

She peeked at Solas from under her lashes, taking another long breath from the joint. The sweet scent of elfroot blew around them as she exhaled, the smoke swirling around them both.

He was watching her intently, his face cool. “May I?” he asked her.

She smirked and passed it to him, watching him rest it between his lips and take a deep pull. “Ooh, would you look at that. It looks like the old man knows how to have fun, after all. I didn’t think you knew how, Solas,” she teased. A hazy relaxation was settling around her, a coy smile gracing her lips. It was an unfair jab, she knew, but she couldn't help it. 

“True, I have lived countless lifetimes. Millenia, even. Be that as it may, I too like to indulge in pleasure when able.” He held eye contact with her while he took another drag from the joint, his eyes gleaming fiercely into hers. She felt a small shiver coil down her back at the look. He passed the joint back to her, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Moreover, I have found that elfroot relaxes my senses and allows me to slip into the Fade more easily.” He passed the joint back to her. 

“I have so many questions,” she blurted. “There are so many things I wish to know.” She took a deep pull from the joint and held it in her chest for a moment before letting it go, smoke swirling around her like a soft embrace. There were so many things she wanted to ask him, so many unanswered questions, but the questions were becoming fuzzy and jumbled around in her head as the elfroot settled in. 

Where was he born? Was he born at all? What were the limits of his magic? What was Arlathan like? What does magic feel like? Had he always intended to bring down the Veil? How did he end up here? Why was he here?

The one that slipped out, however was “Do you miss her? Me? I don’t know anymore, this is complicated and weird.” She swallowed, perhaps not the most tactful question.

Solas was staring at his hands fidgeting in his lap, plainly struggling with his choice of words. “Yes,” he whispered. The line of his mouth was tight, his eyes narrowed, as if trying to keep back a tempest of expression. “I miss her dearly. Every hour. Every minute. Every second. I miss you for all of it.”

“You miss... _ me _ ?” she sputtered, confused, face flushing. Had he meant to switch the use of pronouns to insinuate her instead?  _ He couldn’t possibly have _ , she thought.

“I…” Solas paused for a moment, thinking. The joint was going to burn out in her hand soon, and she stared at it. He couldn’t possibly have meant her. “Yes -- I -- I am unsure,” he admitted.

Her head was reeling, and she didn’t think it was from the elfroot. “But Solas you hardly know me. I’m not her,” she croaked. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She was afraid that if she did, she would come undone and let it all go. Let go all of the hurt she’d seen, the pain and suffering. She’d known him for years, but he had only just met her. The other Ellana, this Inquisitor, they weren’t the same person, not really.  At least she didn’t think so. The other Ellana, the other her, had experienced so many more hardships, had protected and saved so many people with her actions _. I couldn’t possibly hold a candle to her _ . 

Solas hid his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him so openly vulnerable, not since he’d told the Inquisitor that they couldn’t be together and walked away from her. His shoulders were slumped in resignation. “You are the same, and you are not.,” he whispered. “You share many of the same qualities, the same ideals, the same hope to see all good returned to the world. You are marvelous and strange, and you shine so  _ bright _ . You would take this world and make it something better. You are so very much the same.”

Solas raised his head and met her eyes. 

The earnestness in his eyes and in what he said had her floored and made her unable to speak. He was so close. She could feel his breath on her face, the scent of elfroot lingering on his clothes. “I..uh…” she muttered. She didn’t know what to say in response to that. Her ears were burning from the impeccable compliment.

His lips were brushing hers, so faint that it could barely be called a kiss. Her fingers trembled with the anticipation, leaning in the rest of the distance to firmly embrace the kiss. He sighed softly and cupped her cheek with the most tender touch, almost as if he was afraid to touch her. That if he touched her she would vanish and disappear. His lips were so soft and velvety, so plush, and even though the kiss was probably the most gentle and tender one she’d ever received, it was sparking stars in her belly. 

She leaned into his touch, the tip of his finger tickling the edge of her ear.  _ This is wrong, so wrong. But if it’s wrong why does it feel so right? _ she thought. 

“Fenedhis!! Shit! That hurts!” she pulled away in alarm, dropping the remains of the elfroot joint smouldering on the ground between her her legs. She sucked her finger into her mouth, trying to soothe the burn. The spell was broken, and she stared at the ground. She stumbled to her feet and she heard him sigh. 

“We...we should go get some rest. We have another long day tomorrow,” she muttered. She waited until he rose to his feet as well, and lead the way back to the refugee camp. She found their tent quickly without much trouble and slipped inside. 

She stripped down to her t-shirt and underwear, and pulled her bra out from one of the arm holes, feeling his eyes burning into her back as she did so.  _ Don’t turn around, don’t look at him. If you do… _

She groaned inwardly at the closeness of their bedrolls. The tent had clearly been intended for the use of only one person, but Solas’s unexpected arrival had forced them to share. She bent and rolled out her sleeping bag over her bedroll, trying to ignore the tingling sensation of being watched. He hadn’t peeled his eyes away from her since they’d reached the tent. She slipped into the sleeping bag and laid on her side, facing away from him. 

Finally, she heard him sigh and roll out his own sleeping bag, the sound of his own clothes being shed and folded neatly by their feet. He slipped silently into his sleeping bag.

“Good night, Solas,” she whispered to the darkness.

“Good night, lethallan.”

\---

He was kissing her. 

Solas’s body pressed into hers, her back forced into the tree behind her. She moaned into his mouth as his teeth grazed her bottom lip before his tongue delved back between her lips for another taste. He kissed her slow and deep. Her hands gripped into the knit fabric of his tunic, trying to keep some semblance of balance. One of his hands was planted firmly on the back of her head below her the leather tie holding her hair back, fingers wrapping themselves in her hanging ponytail. His other drifted up her chest to palm her breast through her thick leathers, and she lost her breath.

Her hand clasped the fabric of his tunic more tightly, her head swimming. He’d taken her hand and pulled her from the camp, from their companions, telling her that he had something to show her. They’d barely gotten out of earshot of the camp before he was pressing her back into the tree, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss. 

She could feel the hardness of him through his breeches, pressing against her belly as he kissed her, and she ground back against him. He moaned into her mouth at the pressure and ducked his head into the crevice of her neck, planting a wet kiss to the exposed skin there. She bit at her lower lip as he trailed his kisses further down her neck, pulling at the edge of her jacket to expose more skin.

“I thought you wanted to show me something,” she panted, eyes fluttering closed at his ministrations.

“No,” he replied before nipping at her pointed ear.

“But you said…” her breath hitched in her throat as he bit down firmly on the skin below her ear. 

The smell of sweat and battle was still lingering on his skin, the scent of dragon blood sticking to her leather armor. He kissed her again, stealing her breath away before pulling back to gaze into her eyes. His pupils were dilated with arousal. “You alone could gaze into the face of a greater mistral and walk away unhurt.” He traced his lips over the lines of her vallaslin and it sent a shudder of heat straight down to the aching spot between her legs. “A fierce warrior such as yourself deserves to be worshipped unreservedly. Wholly. Completely.”

Her hands rose up from his chest and linked behind his neck, leaning into the touch of his lips on her face.

“Let me do this for you,” he whispered, peppering kisses across her face. 

“Do what?” she breathed.

His hands were suddenly pulling at the laces of her breeches and she gasped as his hand reached inside and found the wet folds between her legs. She rarely wore smallclothes under her armor, and was suddenly glad for it. He moaned, finding the wetness gathered there.

He placed another kiss on her lips and pulled her lower lip into his mouth in a gentle bite. He’d pulled her aside for secret kisses before when the others weren’t looking, but never anything like this. He’d never  _ touched _ her like this before. She was trembling. Was killing a dragon really that arousing to him? She figured that to be more Iron Bull’s character than Solas’s. 

His finger pressed into her clit and all thought was banished from her mind, a throaty moan leaving her lips. His hand left her and she pouted as he lowered to his knees. She blinked in surprise. What was he up to?

“Solas?” she whispered.

He caught her look, eyes swirling with arousal. “May I?” he requested.

She nodded and before she knew what was happening, he was tugging down her breeches, the cool air of the night tickling her bare legs. His warm hands ran up the length of her leg, parting them slightly at the thighs. She held her breath in anticipation, trembling slightly, as his nose nuzzled at the warmth between her legs. His tongue darted out and licked at the gathering moisture around her clit ---

\---

Loud, incomprehensible hollering outside the tent startled her from her sleep and she groaned in complaint. She buried her face in her pillow and whimpered. The ache between her legs that the dream had left her with was near unbearable. Her thighs clenched together in an attempt to abate it. She peeked an eye open and froze when she saw Solas staring back, his eyes lidded and face flushed with desire.  _ Oh Creators, please don’t tell me I was doing something embarrassing in my sleep _ , she thought. The intensity with which he was staring sent a bolt of arousal to her pelvis. She’d awoken slick with wet and if Solas hadn’t been there she likely would have taken care of it herself. 

He was only inches from her, close enough she could feel his breath but distanced enough they weren’t quite touching. “Uh...morning,” she whispered hoarsely. 

He smirked and lifted a hand to to trace her fingers over her vallaslin, her eyes fluttering shut at the contact. When she opened them again his face was only a short distance away. His normally stormy blue eyes were darkened with desire. She was helpless under that gaze, her core aching with want. He nuzzled closer to her, his lips meeting hers in a tender kiss. She melted into it, unable to resist his touch, particularly after the dream she’d just had. His lips kneaded into hers and his tongue pressed against her mouth, seeking entrance. She let it in with a sigh, marveling at the velvety softness of it against her own. 

He shifted and rolled over her, and she could feel the hardness of his erection through the thin sleeping bag. The kiss deepened and her fingers traced over the back of his scalp. He moaned and ground down into her in response. She whimpered a the sensation of his hard length pressing into her, wanting to feel it again. Ellana smirked against his kisses and scraped her fingers down the back of his scalp again, his hips grinding back down into her again. He  _ definitely _ liked that. 

Solas buried his face in her neck and forced down her sleeping bag so there was nothing else parting them but their clothes. He nipped at her, panting lightly, his hand following a path up the smoothness of her bare leg. His hand stopped at the junction of her legs and cupped her mound through her panties. 

Her hair fanned around her head as she arched into his touch, desperate for more of it. “Solas, I…” she croaked.  _ I should stop him, but, this feels so good. He feels like heaven. _

“Shhh,” Solas placed another fiery kiss on her lips and sat back on his knees, eyes studying her scantily clad body. Her t-shirt had ridden up her belly a little, exposing her creamy skin, and her underwear was doing little to hide her arousal. 

Gently, he pulled down her underwear, exposing her to him fully. Before she could protest, he bent between her legs and pressed his tongue to her clit, as if knowing exactly where the dream had left off. Maybe he had, he was a fadewalker after all. Maybe he’d seen all of it. The thoughts didn’t linger in her mind for long, when she felt his tongue flatten and lick up the moisture on her slit. She arched into him with a moan, and he pressed her back into the bedroll at the hips. 

He pulled back, flicking her clit with his tongue. “Shh, you must be silent. Your voice will carry through the tent.”

He dove back in, tongue plunging against her clit, and she bit back another throaty moan. Her toes curled into the bedroll as his tongue assaulted her clit, bolts of pleasure striking her straight to the core. She was dripping wet, and the more he attacked her clit with his tongue, the harder she found it to stay quiet. 

She mewled and whimpered as his tongue dipped between the folds of her labia and dove into her, tasting her fully. His hands were traveling and caressing her hips, down to her thighs, and up again. It was sensory overload. Her hand reached down and scratched at his scalp and he moaned into her cunt, the vibration of it buzzing against her sensitive bud. Flame was curling in her belly, ready to burst, and she knew she was close.

“Ahh--Solas, I…” she panted.

His tongue only dove into her further, then back out as he withdrew to flick and suck on her clit. 

“ _ Fenedhis-- _ ” She bucked into his mouth, grinding herself against him. A long slender finger explored around her entrance before plunging in, another one following shortly after. The penetrating sensation of it was all it took, and she arched against his hand, the curling flame in her belly bursting as she came around his hand and onto his tongue with a long breathless moan. The force of it lifted her hips off the ground as she rode out the shockwaves, his tongue and fingers coaxing as much of it out of her as he could. 

Eventually, after she’d calmed considerably, he slowly raised his head and wiped his mouth with a hand, his dimpled chin wet with her nectar. She lay back dazed, trying to catch her breath when she felt him stand and move to his carefully folded clothes. Her mind still numb from orgasm, she could barely protest as he pulled on his clothing and looked back at her smugly. 

He winked and stepped out of the tent before she could say a thing.

_ Of all the—! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! As always thank you for your kind reviews and comments, they always make my day brighter.
> 
> [Follow me on tumblr](https://nephrae.tumblr.com/), if you're into that. I'm still kind of new to it. How does I do social media?!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas and Ellana continue their work in Redcliffe, while Solas thinks about his relationship with the Inquisitor.

Solas stepped out of the tent and was welcomed with a cold gust of autumn air, the scent of damp leaves and smoke filling his nose. Determined to get as much space between him and the beautiful elven woman in the tent, he took off at a brisk pace, thankful for the cool air on his warm skin simmering his arousal. The bulge in his pants made his speedy gait uncomfortable, and he paused only for a second to adjust himself before continuing. He felt guilt for leaving her there after performing such an intimate act, but the lust and arousal had been overwhelming; a burning, consuming passion deep within him let loose. She had tasted divine, better than he imagined in his darkest fantasies. Never before had he the opportunity to taste her, and he would never forget the deliciousness that was her nectar coating his tongue, even if he never got to do it again. 

He didn’t want to risk losing everything they had built, in the case that he lost the little control he had over himself around her. It had always been difficult to do. Something in her stirred and evoked emotions he had once thought long dead, buried to the ages of time. When he had awoken from uthenera, he had felt little desire for any of the men and women who’d been placed in his path, until her. 

He was afraid of what would happen if he let himself lose control and gave himself to her completely. He was afraid that she would welcome him into her warm embrace, then never let him go. He was afraid that she would  _ want _ him, ache for him the same way he ached for her. He didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve her. Didn’t deserve her forgiveness or respect. He wanted it desperately, but he had no illusion that she would ever give it to him, and he had resigned himself to that fact a very long time ago. 

But when he’d seen her laying so close to him, whispering his name in her sleep in such a wanton tone, her breaths coming short, his small modicum of control had slipped. He had let himself wonder if it was him that she dreamed of, if maybe she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Her hand had gripped into the bedding below her as a shudder passed through her and Solas had nearly unravelled at the sight of it. He’d been half tempted to fall back into slumber and walk into her dream to see it for himself, but had been unable to tear his eyes away from the lovely sight of her cheeks pink with blush.

He cleared his throat abruptly and tried to shake the memory from his mind as he made his way to the canteen for breakfast, rusted leaves crunching under his feet. He knew it had been cruel to leave so quickly without saying anything, but hadn’t been able to resist tossing her a smirk, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of the state he’d put her in with just his mouth. He could have stayed there between her legs for decades, tasting her sweetness.

His pace slowed as he reached the canteen and retrieved a portion of oatmeal for his breakfast. Finding a place to sit and eat in silence, he lost himself in his thoughts as everything around him melted away. Perhaps he’d been mistaken thinking it wise to tell her how he felt. Ordinarily he would not have told her, but the wave of relaxation that had drifted over him from the shared Elfroot had made his tongue more pliable than normal. It had been so easy to talk to her openly. If he had been so readily able to talk to  _ her _ before, maybe things would have ended up differently. Maybe he could have made the Inquisitor understand after all. He didn’t doubt that she knew his reasoning, but had never given her the chance to understand, not really. He surmised she may have even joined him in his efforts if he had let her. However, he’d pulled away and locked her out, and looking back now, he wasn’t sure if it had been for her sake or his. He told himself it was to protect her, to protect her from the atrocities he would have to commit to restore his people. Loving her so utterly and completely like he did, had made him weak. One word from her and he would have thrown away all his plans. So he hadn’t let her, hadn’t given her the opportunity. He bottled away his feelings and resigned himself to the knowledge that he would never feel her touch, or see her smile grace her face when she looked at him.

Now though…things were different. He was different. She was different, though quite in the literal sense. The weight of grief and regret was heavy on his shoulders, she was bright and unburdened. He saw so much of the Inquisitor in her, that much was true. The way she opened her heart to others, her noble sense of duty to good and the need help better the lives of others; the way her eyes twinkled when she smiled, the inquisitiveness that was so pivotal to her nature. His confession had been truthful, at least. What she would do with it now, he would put in her hands. He would leave his fate up to her. 

Swallowing down the last spoonful of oatmeal, he rose and deposited his dishes with the other volunteers and went to find Josephine for instructions before Ellana could catch up with him at the canteen. For the remainder of the day, he thought it was wise they remain apart to allow themselves both the time to think.

 

* * *

 

The young elven woman hadn’t noticed him near the back of the infirmary tent yet. He was holding a splint to a young man’s leg as a nurse wrapped it tightly, but his eyes kept wandering over to Lavellan, watching as she rushed in with a flushed face. A potion bottle was gripped tightly in her hand as she dashed over to a couple, then dropped to her knees and pulled the stopper on the bottle, ponytail swinging behind her with the force in which she dropped to her knees.

“I have the potion for your wife,” she said breathlessly.

The woman was struggling for breath and Ellana bent to whisper comforting words to her. 

“Thank Andraste, my lady. Quickly now,” replied the man, presumably the woman’s husband. 

Solas watched as Ellana gently cradled the woman's head and poured the potion into her mouth, making sure not a drop was spilled. After a few moments, the woman's breath evened out, and the blue tint that had gathered on her lips started to fade to their natural shade. 

The man heaved a sigh of relief and clutched one of his wife's hands to his chest. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you,” he said. “Without the potion…Anything you need, say the word and it’s yours.”

Ellana shook her head and smiled. “No thanks are needed, I only wanted to help.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

The refugee gave her a grateful nod and tended to his wife as Ellana rose to her feet. 

His attention was pulled from the young woman. The nurse, now finished wrapping the broken leg of the patient he was tending, rose and left to tend to someone else. Solas moved to the next patient, seeing that their lunch had remained untouched. He crouched next to the child and in a soft voice asked, “Do you think you have the strength to eat, da’len?

The child shook his head weakly, blanket clutched up around his neck.

“Then would you allow me?”

The child nodded, slowly, eyeing Solas cautiously. He couldn’t help but wonder where his parents were. Solas carefully assisted the child up into a more vertical position, took the bowl of soup from the table and carefully held out a spoonful for him to eat. As he slowly helped the small, frail child eat, his gaze wandered back over to Ellana.

Cullen had arrived during his brief moment of distraction and Ellana was engaged in lively conversation with him. He was standing more closely to her than Solas was comfortable with, and with a swallow he watched as Ellana smiled graciously at Cullen, her fingers lingering on the man’s bicep. The man’s eyes were practically oozing with blatant admiration for the woman, though he didn’t blame him and was not surprised in the least. He’d always been aware of the Commander’s feelings for the Inquisitor, though silently grateful that he had never pursued them, even after he had abandoned her.

Solas felt the unpleasant curl of jealously wrapping itself around his spine as he watched them. He knew he had no place to be jealous of the human, but it was rearing up in him nonetheless. A possessiveness was washing over him, he wanted to run over and pull Ellana into his arms and devour her. He wanted it to be known that she was his and he was hers, but he knew that wasn’t the truth of it. He may be hers, yes, always would be, but she had not committed herself to him in any form. 

The soup bowl was now empty and he assisted the child back down into the bed, his hand ruffling the small child's hair. “Very good, da’len. You ate it all,” he said with an endearing tone. The little boy pouted at him and pulled the blanket back up to his neck, as if the act was a rebellious defiance. Solas couldn’t help but smile. 

Feeling eyes watching him, he looked up from the boy and saw Ellana was watching Solas, still in conversation with Cullen. The blond’s back was turned to him, leaving Ellana facing him fully while they conversed. A smile was gracing her beautiful face, her eyes never leaving Solas’s, and he knew immediately that the smile was meant for him. 

Any lingering sense of jealousy drained away with her smile. Although she was in deep conversation with the Commander, her attention hadn’t wandered from Solas, never breaking eye contact. The very tips of her ears were flushed pink, and Solas pondered if it was because of the mornings earlier events. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and her smile widened when she saw it. 

Her slightly lopsided smile always lit up her face so beautifully. She’d always been a beautiful woman - he’d thought as much from the first time he saw her laying unconscious in Haven - but her smile lit her up in a way that took his breath away. As hard as it had been to admit to himself, he’d been enamoured with her from the first moment he saw her smile. She was always unable to hide her heart when she smiled, her feelings pouring through her eyes for all to see every time she did so. 

He hadn’t realized until much later that he was helplessly in love with her. He supposed he had first realized it when Corypheus laid siege to Haven and her bravery had saved them all. When she hadn’t followed them after the avalanche, he’d watched for her through the eyes of the mountain wolves, watched her struggling to keep moving forward. He’d wanted so greatly to take his wolf form and chase out after her, to bring her back safely, but couldn’t risk exposing himself. Instead, a carefully placed howl, strategically placed canine companions, and he’d pushed her in the right direction. He knew then when she returned alive that he would do everything in his power to aid her, even went as far as to give her the gift of Tarasyl’an Te’las, Skyhold. 

Solas was so tired of pushing her away, of lying to her. As she stood there talking with Cullen, her gaze lingering on Solas, he resolved that he would no longer lock her out. Anything she wanted from him would be hers, whether it was his heart or to send him away. Though it had never been his intention to be pulled into this strange place, Fate had given them a second chance. A second chance to live, to love. He wouldn’t squander it. His world was nothing but ashes now, he had nothing left to go back to. No one to go back to. Everything he needed was right here. She was here. 

He rose slowly from the child’s bedside as she left the Commander and approached him, weaving between the low cots. Perhaps there was hope for him still. She was ambivalent, graced with the knowledge given to her through dreams, and even knowing everything he had done she hadn’t forced him away. She’d let him stay, kept him close. Even brought him with her. 

She was smiling at him again when she stopped in front of him. 

“Solas,” she greeted.

“Miss Lavellan,” he responded with a nod.

She rolled her eyes at his formality and a low chuckle rumbled from his chest. She never did like it when he used formal titles with her, preferring to use more intimate endearments. Good to see that had not changed. 

“Come with me, ‘ma’lath.”

He took her smaller, more slender hand in his and laced their fingers together, leading her towards the infirmary exit. She followed silently as he lead her away from the hub-bub and excitement of the refugee camp, intending to find a quiet place where they could have a moment of privacy. When finally the bustle and noise of the camp was a considerable distance behind them, he turned back to her, his hand still lingering in hers. 

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes lingering on his lips, tooth worrying her bottom lip. A soft breeze picked up her pony tail, lifting it and blowing it around in the current of air.

“Listen Solas, about earlier this morning—” she started, but Solas interrupted her with his mouth, lips closing over hers. He had no desire to talk right now. That was for later, when his lust and passion weren’t rearing over his shoulder and threatening to control his every word. 

She melted into him immediately, her hand releasing his to curl up and behind his neck, pulling him down closer into the kiss. A breathless sigh left his mouth as she pressed her body against him, crushing his wolf bone pendant between them. If this was all she ever wanted, he would gladly comply to it for the rest of his life. He was her servant. His hands traced circles on her waist, his tongue tracing a path along her lower lip and she parted them willingly. His tongue eased into her mouth and she moaned as it connected with hers. With a shudder of pleasure his hands lowered to her hips, then her ass, pressing her against him fervently. She twirled patterns against his tongue with her own and he groaned into her mouth. His heart was hammering in his chest, his cock twitching as all of his blood rushed to it. Desire was overwhelming him, and if she didn’t stop kissing him like this soon, he wouldn’t be able to hold back from throwing himself at her feet and granting her every desire she wished realized. He would take her right out here in the open woods if she wanted him to. The thought of it made his testicles tighten and ache with want. His cock was hard in his jeans, the way she was pressing her hips against him driving him wild. 

One of his hands found its way up to the back of her head, tilting her back to deepen the kiss, his other hand remaining firmly planted on her behind. Her kisses always left him completely breathless and this one was no different. His lips left hers and trailed back to her ear, placing small bites on the cartilage. He felt her shiver against him and she whimpered into his ear. 

“If we do not stop now, vhenan, I do not believe I will be able to at all,” he whispered into her ear hoarsely. He needed her desperately but he needed to know that she wanted him too. 

He felt her stiffen against him, her hands feebly pushed against his chest, and immediately dread plummeted to his gut. 

“Vhenan..?” she whispered, unable to meet his eye as she took a step back. 

Instantly he realized his mistake and opened his mouth to respond but she was already leaving before he could, stumbling over branches and leaves as she put distance between them. 

“I’m sorry, I — I need to go,” she muttered. She turn and fled, leaving him standing alone, regret pouring through him, making him feel sick.  _ Vhenan _ had been an endearment he had used exclusively for  _ her _ , and Solas realized with guilt that it must have made Ellana very uncomfortable to hear it. It must have felt very much like being called by someone else's name.

He rubbed his forehead with frustration, his arousal now a thing of no consequence, unsure of how to make her understand. He loved her, he loved the Inquisitor, he loved them both. They were the same, and yet the were not, and Solas didn’t know how he could explain it any other way. He’d tried to tell her, but the glaze of Elfroot had taken him and he had been unable to fully express it. They were like two sides of the same coin, two legs of the same stool that he needed to stand. 

_ Fenhedis, damn it all ! _

 

* * *

 

Solas was unable to approach Lavellan to discuss their earlier conflict for the rest of the day. Josephine had kept him busy, task upon task upon task. There were tents to be erected, food and rations that needed to be taken stock of and distributed, wounds needing tending, medicine that needed mixing. So much work to be done. The silver lining in it all however, was that the enormous workload had kept him distracted and prevented him from mulling over the earlier incident. Ellana had kept herself just as busy, and though Solas was unsure, he had an inkling she was purposely taking control of tasks in other areas in order to avoid him. She was keeping herself well surrounded by people, be it volunteers or refugees, and Solas had been unable to get close to her. 

He need to apologize to her. To let her know how sorry he was, that the last thing he ever wanted was to hurt her or make her uncomfortable. He didn’t want her to think that he was just projecting his feelings for the Inquisitor onto her, as he suspected that she did. She wasn’t some consolation prize to him. She was a light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel. He briefly wondered what the Inquisitor would think if she was alive and aware of the situation he found himself in, if the roles had been reversed. He liked to think that she would be accepting of it, as gracious as she had always been, but he had no way of knowing for sure. His heart sank in his chest, grief welling up there instead. He would never know, not now.

He lost himself in his work for the rest of the afternoon, the aching and straining of his muscles a protest against his fatigue. It wasn’t until much later that Lavellan returned to him with his pack in her hand and her own strung over one shoulder. 

“The train back home is leaving in less than an hour,” she stated, staring at his chest. He tried to catch her gaze as he took his bag from her, but she turned away. 

“For what it is worth, I am sorry,” he told her. She gave him a curt nod and left for the direction of the train station. He followed her obediently, keeping a short distance behind her. 

Soon enough, they were settled into their seats on the train across from each other, and she was still refusing to look him in the eye.

He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned towards her, a look of concern etched into his brow. “I am terribly sorry that I made you uncomfortable, Ellana. It was not my desire to see you so,” he said in a hushed tone.

Her eyes finally flicked up to meet his and he was met with a look of inner turmoil. Guilt flooded into him like a tumultuous river as if a dam had broken within. He clasped his hands together before him in an attempt to keep from fidgeting with anxiousness, to keep from reaching out to pull her into his embrace.

“You are everything to me and I would not in my right mind intend to do harm upon you. You are a breath of fresh air, a second chance for forgiveness. I am yours, if you would have me.” He stared at the floor, unable to look to her eyes, afraid of what he might find there. Rejection, maybe, or the more frightening possibility that she  _ did _ forgive him. 

He heard her sigh lightly and shift in her seat as the train started to move. “All is forgiven, Solas,” she whispered.

He raised his bald head and looked at her with surprise, seeing honestly swimming in her eyes. She couldn’t possibly mean that, could she? If she was capable of forgiveness so easily, perhaps there was hope for him still.

His grey-blue eyes met hers. “I just…I need some time, I think. To process everything,” she said. 

Solas nodded. “Take all of the time you need.” 

He was not unaware of the irony of the words, having said them to her once before - but he meant them. He would wait an eternity for her. He may be many terrible things, but one thing he was not lacking was the virtue of patience. He would give her all of the time she wanted.

He only hoped it wouldn’t be forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the angst my friends! As always, thank you for your comments and kudos. <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana brings Solas along for the ride at their show in Kirkwall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The music quoted in this chapter is [Trespasser](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iIyQ-9Vg080) by Red Handed Denial, and [Patronizer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imJgmipZcAg) by Red Handed Denial ft. Eric July. Highly recommend a listen!

The days following their return form Redcliffe were tense, at best. Ellana avoided Solas to the best of her ability, needing time and space to sort out her feelings. She knew it wasn’t fair to the poor man, leaving him in such a state of suspension, but she couldn’t help it. Her feelings and thoughts were twisting inside her and she needed to decide what to do about it.

The last several days had been mostly spent at the warehouse they ‘rented’ from Varric where the band rehearsed and recorded their music - using the term ‘rented’ loosely. More like use it for free at the behest of the ginger dwarven man. The place had high ceilings, great acoustics, and was private enough that no one bothered them while they practiced. She’d done some shopping here and there, making sure to pick up more books for Solas to occupy himself with, and even a small leather bound sketchbook for him to doodle in when he felt the need. Guilt burned her belly for ignoring him for so long, but it couldn’t be helped. She knew sooner or later they would need to address the issue of identification so he could find work, a place to live, bank accounts…the thought of it made her head swim; maybe Leliana could assist her with it. The woman most certainly could keep a secret, even if she didn’t fully understand it.

Ellana sighed and glared at her microphone stand in annoyance, daring it to talk back to her as she adjusted it into the correct position. They had a show coming up the next day in Kirkwall and they needed to practice, but Ellana was finding it increasingly difficult to focus. She groaned inwardly, reminding herself that she still had to take Fen over to Cullen’s to be dog-sit before they left in the morning. _Ugh, so many things to do,_ she thought.

“You know, love, if you stare at it any harder I think it may burst into flame,” Dorian joked from behind her. Grumbling something unintelligible under her breath, she turned her glare to Dorian instead.

He lifted his hands up in the air as a sign of surrender from the guitar he’d been tuning, eyes wide at the scowl pulling at Ellana’s lips.

“You know you might as well be shooting arrows with a glare like that. What is it Ellana? You’re usually much more chipper than this. Is it your visitor? Trouble in paradise?” His voice lowered. “You know you can tell me anything, love.”

Ellana glanced at the rest of the band lounging on a tattered couch nearby but out of ear shot. They weren’t paying any attention to her, instead laughing at some ridiculous recount of Creators-know-what by Sera. For the moment, she and Dorian had a small modicum of privacy.

Looking at him guiltily, she nodded. She hadn’t meant to take her frustration out on anyone, let alone her best friend. The two of them had found kindred spirits in one another, and he certainly didn’t deserve her irritable behaviour.

“Yeah. It’s Solas. He’s made it very clear how he feels for me but…I don’t know. I’m not sure if I’m ready. Or if it’s what I even want.”

Her hands dropped to her sides and pouted at him pitifully. Dorian smiled at her reassuredly and gave one of her arms a gentle squeeze. “What do you want, Ellana?”

“I…I don't know, Dorian! I want to be with him but…I don’t want him to think I’m just a replacement for the other me. For her. I’m not her. I can’t be her. What if he only wants _her_ and not _me_?” she rambled.

Dorian straightened and gave her a firm look. “Look,” he said. “Ellana you’re an incredible woman. _You_ . Ellana Lavellan. The woman who only yesterday stopped to help a little old lady cross the street when she couldn’t make the light. Maker or no, if I was even the tiniest bit straight I would be all over you in an _instant_.”

Ellana laughed and hid her face in her hands.

“No, really, Ellana. I’d whisk you away to the foreign reaches of Tevinter where they would never find us. Just think of the scandal!”

Ellana laughed into her hands and let him continue. “You’re splendid and wonderful and he would be an idiot to not be completely in love with you. Which he is. I’ve seen it. It’s written all over the poor lads face whenever he looks at you.”

Ellana dropped her hands and looked at Dorian, earnestness pouring from his dark eyes into hers. “How can you be so sure?” she asked.

“After everything you told me about your dreams, it’s clear that the man is utterly in love with you. He distanced himself from you once before not only to protect you, but because he knew that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t stand a chance against your wonderful charm. He did it because he loved you, my dear. Because with one word from you and he would’ve turned away from all his plans.”

Ellana’s eyes dropped to the ground as she thought. What Dorian said made sense, certainly. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Having an outside perspective helped, that much was sure. She groaned and stomped her foot slightly into the ground.

Dorian laughed and tilted her chin back up to him. “Fate has landed you both a second chance, Ellana. Don’t let it slip by you. If being with him is what you truly want, then go for it.”

Ellana sighed. He was right, of course. Dorian was always right. “Thank you, Dorian,” she said, pulling him into a tight hug, his guitar held awkwardly between them.

“Anytime, love. Now go get him.”

* * *

 

The bar Solas had sat himself at was sticky with old drinks, the air thick with the scent of body odours and stale beer.  The hard wood of the bar stood was uncomfortable beneath him and he wiggled in an attempt to get comfortable, swirling his old fashioned around in its glass. Ellana had ordered it for him before she went backstage, making sure to add it to the band’s tab.

Solas turned in his seat to look at the stage on the other end of the large bar, the heavy velvet curtains still closed to prying eyes. Octagonal tables made from repurposed wood littered the area surrounding the dance floor laid out before the stage. The lights were dimmed, small tea candles on the table being the main source of light in the large space.

Quite a large crowd of spectators had congregated to watch Ellana’s band perform. Teenagers were excitedly prancing about wearing t-shirts bearing the logo of the band, adults lounged calmly against tables and any hard surface they could find, drinks in hand.  Admittedly he was a little surprised at the turn-out, Solas hadn’t really known what to expect. Ellana had been very stubborn, not letting him sit in on their rehearsals or listen to any of their music, wanting it to be a surprise for him.

To be perfectly honest he hadn’t even really known what to think when he’d discovered her talent as a musician and performer. He’d seen the lute in her room back at Skyhold, even heard her idly plucking away at its strings a few times, but this was a large step up from a casual hobby. Ellana had warned him however, that this brand of music may be unlike anything he’d ever heard before, planting a small seed of anxiousness inside him as he waited for them to start.

Solas took a small sip from his drink, the alcohol burning his throat on the way down, a small frown pulling at his lips at the flavour. He had never been much of a drinker, not since his days in Arlathan (and the indulgent beverages then had been…different, laced with emotions and magic). During the Inquisition he’d wanted to be sure to keep a clear head, keep his wits about him, never let his mask falter or waver. It had become so very exhausting. Without the necessity of constantly lying to everyone around him, he found it much easier to relax and indulge. He swirled the drink around in its glass again and finished it off.

He turned back to the bartender and lifted his glass, motioning for a refill, unable to shake the feeling that he had seen him somewhere before. The large, nearly brutish looking man made his drink and set it on the bar in front of him with a small ‘ _thunk_ ’, a lop-sided grin plastered to his face.

“So,” he started, “You know Lavellan then?” he asked Solas, hand scratching at his scruffy beard.

Solas quirked an eyebrow at the man and nodded, taking the drink. “Indeed,” Solas replied.

“That’s great! She’s great. Did you know half of the bands earnings go to charity?”

Solas didn’t know that, in fact. He was not surprised, however. It seemed like a very Lavellan-thing to do. “No, I was not aware,” he told the man.

The bartenders grin spread and nodded towards the stage. “They play here pretty frequently, we love to have them whenever we can. They sell out every time they perform here. I’m Hawke, by the way. This is my bar.” He was leaning his forearms on the bar, brown eyes twinkling at the elven man sitting across from him.

Solas’s eyes shot up to the man’s face from his drink, realization washing over him. Of course he’d seen him before - at Skyhold, and again at Adamant Fortress. The Champion of Kirkwall. Standing across from him, serving him drinks. In a bar aptly named the Hanged Man. Solas groaned inwardly, cursing himself for not realizing earlier. It seemed this strange alternate timeline was not done surprising him just yet.

“Sorry, did I disrupt your brooding and internal monologue?” Hawke joked, raising up from his elbows to lean on his hands.

Solas sighed. “Yes, you certainly have a touch for interrupting at the best of times.”

“Yes, yes, I have an excellent sense of dramatic timing. And good hair.” Hawke smirked at Solas, pushing off from the bar. “Anyway, they should be starting soon. Enjoy the show!”

Hawke left Solas to his thoughts, quickly becoming distracted by other customers at the bar. Solas turned and observed the crowd again. The room had filled considerably in the last several minutes, the room packed full of excited elves and humans alike, waiting for the band to start.

The lights slowly dimmed to black, the ambient music in the background faded, and the crowd gathered before the stage surged forward, shouting excited cheers and whistles. They were about to start.

The curtain on the stage pulled open, revealing six figures standing in the dark of the stage, unmoving. Waiting. The crowd was alight with anticipation, arms reaching out and cheering, the figure standing near the front of the stage just out of reach.

One of the guitarists began plucking at the strings of their guitar, the loud twang of it reverberating through the hall and echoing off the walls. After only a second, the drummer joined in, the loud pounding of the cymbals and drums complimenting the rhythm of the guitar.

Coloured lights flashed and lit up the stage, spotlights brightening and revealing Sera standing to the side, fingers flying over the neck of her guitar. The Iron Bull sat behind the drum set, the muscles of his arms bulging as he beat away on his drums, the sheer size of the man making the instrument look like a set of toys in comparison.

Dorian took a step into the light as he joined Sera on the guitar, a smug smirk on his face as the crowd erupted at the sight of him. Fast fingers flit over the strings of his instrument, faster than Solas even knew was possible without magic.

The music cascaded and picked up into a fast beat as Blackwall and Cassandra joined the rest of the band, Blackwall standing rigidly as he played at his bass, Cassandra swaying slightly as her fingers pressed into her electric piano.

Solas’s eyes fell on Ellana as the lights centred to reveal her centre-stage, his heart jumping into his throat. Long, exposed legs stretched down to bare feet from her short, black dress, the soft fabric swishing about her like ocean waves as her hips swayed to the rhythm of the music. Her hair had been curled and tumbled over her back and shoulders, half of it pinned back and out of her face. Dark makeup smudged across her eyes and nose like a dark mask of shadow.

She looked stunning. An elven huntress tip-toeing around her battle grounds, eyes scoring over the audience for prey. Solas’s heart quickened in his chest as he slid from his stool and approached the crowd, slipping into it with ease.

Dorian’s guitar quickened and the music almost seemed to pause for a half beat. Solas crept closer to the stage, unable to tear his eyes from Ellana as she lifted her microphone to her mouth and began to sing.

“ _The call of the Void utters my name_ …” her voice rang out softly.  

Her voice dropped slightly, “ _The darkness, impending demise_ ,” before the music picked up again “ _Despicable thoughts come alive, and as I descend, the demons arise!_ ”

Her voice was ringing through the hall of the bar, people were pushing and dancing around him. Ellana’s eyes scoured over the audience, a small smirk playing at her lips as she continued, a delicate hand lifted into the air as her voice rose with it.

“ _My body is taken hoooold, it’s no longer miiine!_ ”

Dorian leaned into his microphone, a low snarling voice accompanying Ellana’s as he joined her, “ _The devil is creeping behiiinnd_ ~”

Solas paused and blinked as her voice seemed to change and morph into a hoarse growl, animalistic and deep.

“ ** _This can’t be undone!_ ** **_!_** ”

Ellana lifted a hand into the air and took a deep breath as the band paused for half a beat, a grin stretched across her face as she caught Solas’s eye. The melody and volume of the music increased in intensity, the audience joining her as she broke into the chorus.

“ _Where’s my heart? I wanna feel whole again, or nothing at all!_ ” Ellana’s voice shocked straight through Solas, unable to look away.

“ _Where’s my soul? Because I’m not myself, I’m not like anyone_ else.”

Solas almost couldn’t believe his ears. The music was loud and he had never heard anything like it before, but it was filling him up with such delight that it surprised him. Solas wondered if the lyrics had been written by Ellana, because it certainly seemed like it - her lyrics resonated with him on a personal level, singing to him alone as she waltzed about the stage, her eyes leaving his only briefly to catch the gaze of other audience members.

Dorian’s guitar broke into the same riff as before, fingers plucking at the strings as he bent over his instrument in concentration, light glinting off his dark hair. Sera was skittering about on stage behind Ellana in a ridiculous dance as she continued to sing the next verse, her echoing in that dark growl again as Dorian accompanied it.

“ ** _A wound never healed is hard to conceal. Putrified sores will fester and spoil._** ”

Her voice lifted into its beautiful melodic tone again, “ _Free from the shackles of my innocence, I no longer see through the rose-coloured lens_.”

Ellana traipsed over to Dorian, joining him as they swayed side to side to the music. “ _I see the world for what it really is, the goodness is gone so I’ll take what I caaaaaan!_ ”

The band paused for another half-beat before breaking into song again, the crowd screaming and reaching out for Ellana as she approached center-stage, voice ringing into the hall.

The voices of the audience sang out along with her. “ _Where’s my heart? I wanna feel whole again, or nothing at all!_ ”

Ellana made eye contact with Solas again, drawing him into her gaze like a siren.

“ _Where’s my soul? Because I’m not myself, I’m not like anyone else!_ ”

The band looped back into the start of the chorus, Cassandra’s dark hair bouncing slightly as her head banged slightly to the music, fingers pounding on her keyboard.

“ _Where’s my heart? I wanna feel whole again, or nothing at all!_ ”

Ellana’s sang to Solas so earnestly, and he cursed himself inwardly for ever thinking that he had a reason to be anxious.

“ _Where’s my soul? Because I’m not myself, I’m not like anyone else!_ ”

Her voice pitched down into it’s animalistic growl again, Dorian joining her in the vocals. “ ** _A wound never healed is hard to conceal. Putrified sores will fester and spoil — YEAH!_** ”

Her voice was bellowing through the bar, the audience pushing and shoving at each other as the instrumentals became harsh and roared over them.

“ ** _Blegh!_** ” spat Ellana, her voice not unlike a demon had possessed her, the heavy instrumentals continuing for a few more bars.

She was beautiful up on the stage, the light framing her hair and lighting up her face as the music slowed slightly, her voice ringing clearly throughout, “ _The call of the Void utters my name…The darkness, impending demise._ ”

Her voice lifted, “ _Despicable thoughts come alive! And as I descend, the demons ariiiise~_ ”

She took a step back from the front of the stage, feet pounding into the floor to the rhythm of the music. The beat slowed and echoed about the crowd in an eery tone, Dorian’s guitar and Cassandra’s piano twisting together in a macabre dance before picking up into the chorus again.

“ _Where’s my heart!_ ” sang Ellana, “ _I wanna feel whole again or nothing at all!_ ” She danced back into the spotlight as the chorus picked the rhythm back up.

“ _Where’s my soul? Because I’m not myself, I’m not like anyone else!_ ”

Ellana’s voice pitched up an octave, her eyes resting on Solas. “ _Where’s my heart? I wanna feel whole again, or nothing at all!!_ ”

Ellana’s eyes penetrated into Solas’s, making him feel only slightly uncomfortable with the intensity of it, her expression melting into one of longing and desire as she sang to him.

“ _Where’s my soul? Because I’m not myself, I’m not like anyone eeelse!_ ”

Dorian and Sera’s guitars warbled together and resonated the last few bars together, Bull’s drums and Blackwall’s bass guitar slowing to a stop as the song concluded on a beat.

Ellana stood breathless at the front of the stage, a large grin plastered across her face, eyes finally leaving Solas’s. She beamed at the crowd, her smile infectious.

“I love you Lavellan!” came a shout from where off to Solas’s left and Ellana laughed.

“Aw, that’s sweet, thank you,” she breathed into her microphone. “How’s everyone doing tonight?!” she shouted cheerfully, the crowd surging, shouting, and whistling their response.

“I said **how are you doing**?!” she shouted again, motioning with one hand towards the audience. The screams erupting from the people around Solas were near deafening and he winced, plugging one pointed ear with a finger.

Ellana laughed, seeing his reaction, giving him a sympathetic look. He could only imagine how loud it was from up on the stage, the amplifiers only making the volume louder.

“Okay, okay, okay!” she laughed into her microphone. “We are Here Lies the Abyss! We are so glad to be here tonight!”

The crowd broke into cheers and hollering again, and she waited for them to settle. “As always half of the proceeds from tonights show will go to charity,” she started. “There is also a very ruggedly handsome gentleman at the bar with a bucket who would love to take any donations you may like to make!”

Ellana gestured to Hawke at the back bar, who was holding up a ridiculous hot pink bucket with “LOVE” written on it in black letters, pointing to it with a toothy grin.

“Don’t forget to check out our merch table near the entrance!” interjected Dorian, turning slightly so as to not knock over the microphone stand with his guitar.

Ellana took a deep breath and smiled slowly at the audience, eyes flickering out over it and occasionally making eye contact before resting on Solas solemnly. “This next song is called Patronizer.”

The lights dimmed again, but only for a second before Bull’s drums and Dorians guitar reverberated through the bar with a strong note, the lights blinking back up to accompany him.

Blackwall’s bass resounded alongside Dorian, the twang of the strings mixing with the harsh tones of Dorian’s sleek black guitar.

Ellana took a deep breathe before starting, “ ** _You’ll never understand!_** ” her voice kicking into a fierce growl, “ ** _the things that you do!_** ”

Her voice dropped back to its normal tone, “ _Killing us all with the poison you created_.”

Blackwall’s bass sung out as she continued, “ _When the smoke, leaves your lungs - your body is satisfied_ ,” her voice pitched down before continuing in her growl.

“ ** _You’re feeding your pride!_ ** ” The music stuttered and paused. “ ** _FUCK!_ ** ”

Ellana was nearly scowling as the bent over the audience, her bare foot resting on one of the small amps at the front of the stage.

Both hands clutched at her microphone.“ ** _How can you call yourself a Creator! When all you do is destroy!?_** ”

Solas’s stomach lurched as he absorbed the lyrics. She was most certainly singing about him. “ ** _Who made you king!?_** ”

Dorian and Sera’s guitars stuttered in a rhythmic melody as Ellana switched back to her normal tone again, voice echoing out clearly. “ _Hating the world along with a few, it’ll bury you_.”

Cassandra and Sera leaned into microphones he hadn’t noticed were there and echoed “ _It’ll bury you…_ ”

“ _A jabber of swine, a cynical mind, a sickness you will fiiiind!_ ”

Ellana removed her foot from the amp and stepped back, hand lifting into the air as her eyes planted on Solas, fidgeting awkwardly in the crowd.

“ _Who are youuu!”_ Her hips swayed to the rhythm of the music. _“Who do you think you are? Open your eyes to the truth, we wouldn’t be damned if it wasn’t for you._ ”

Solas swallowed, unease swimming around in his belly.

Dorian played a few bars on his guitar before stepping up to his mic, Sera taking over lead guitar as he spat into his microphone in a hoarse roar.

“ ** _Let’s speak these facts! You need to get back, I don’t owe you jack!_** ” spat Dorian quickly, “ ** _You high-side to the max but that don’t change the fact that_ ** **you’re a rat!** ”

Dorian stepped back from his mic as the crowd cheered and Ellana took over again.

“ _Hating the world along with a few, it’ll bury youuu_ ,” she sang.

“ _t’ll bury you…_ ” Cassandra and Sera echoed once again.

“ _A jabber of swine, a cynical mind, a sickness you will fiiiind!_ ”

Ellana breathed again, her eyes falling shut as Cassandra and Sera joined her in the chorus, their voices harmonizing together beautifully.

“ _Who are youuu! Who do you think you are?”_ Ellana’s eyes fluttered open and tilted her head back as she sang.

_“Open your eyes to the truth.”_ Cassandra and Sera’s voices dropped from Ellana’s so she sang alone, _“We wouldn’t be damned if it wasn’t for you._ ”

“ _And arrogance made you a fooool_ ,” they all sang together, Dorian’s head banging down to the beat of the music.

“ _Who are youuu!”_ Ellana sang _._ Her hips were swaying again. _“Who do you think you are? Open your eyes to the truth, we wouldn’t be damned if it wasn’t for you._ ”

“ _And arrogance made you a fooool_ ,” Ellana’s voice rang out alone, Dorian’s guitar echoing out along side it.

The music almost seemed to stop before Ellana’s voice sung out softly, Bull’s rhythmic drums the only thing accompanying her.

“ _No you don’t know everythiiing. How can you expect to reap what you haven’t even sowed?_ ”

She tilted her head in question, eyes seeking out Solas. His brow was furrowed as he listened to her.

“ _Please tell me something I haven’t hearrrd. You talk a big game with nothing to show._ ”

Bull’s drums picked up as he added more of them to the mix. “ _Before you blame somebody else, look within yourself_ ,” she pleaded. “ _There’s anger all about you, you’ll get what’s coming soon!_ ”

Her hand lifted up as if to reach for Solas, his body pulling him closer to the stage without even realizing it.

“ _Paaatronizer;_ **_fuck_ ** _your attitude!_ ” She thrust her finger out in his direction. “ _Point your finger at me, ‘cause who the hell are youuu?!_ ”

Dorian broke out into a measured guitar solo, the notes falling off the strings of his instrument as his fingers flit over the neck of the guitar. He stood close to the edge of the stage, head bowed over as he concentrated, the solo coming to an end as his guitar blended back into the rest of the music.

“ _Who are youuu! Who do you think you are?”_ sang Ellana, _“Open your eyes to the truth, we wouldn’t be damned if it wasn’t for you._ ”

“ _And arrogance made you a fooool_ ,” they all sang together.

“ _Who are youuu! Who do you think you are?_

_Open your eyes to the truth, we wouldn’t be damned if it wasn’t for you.”_

_“And arrogance made you a fooool!”_

“ ** _Who are youuuuuu~!_ ** ” Ellana’s voice rang out, the guitar fading to an echo alongside her voice as the song came to a conclusion.

They started immediately into another song, Dorian’s guitar softly reverberating through the bar, but Solas turned from the stage and pushed his way back to the bar, sitting in the space he had occupied before. His fingers wrapped around the drink he had abandoned at the bar and he slammed the rest of it back in one go, sputtering at the harsh burn of alcohol on his tongue.

Solas could feel Ellana’s eyes watching him from the stage but didn’t turn to acknowledge her. He couldn’t face her, not now. Not after that. The audience was singing along to whatever song they were currently playing but Solas couldn’t be bothered to turn and listen.

Was that truly what she thought of him? Had she always bottled so much anger towards him and his actions? She certainly had every right to be. His fingers tightened around his empty glass and motioned to Hawke for another without even a glance upwards.

He felt the tug of the empty glass being pulled from his hand and the press of a full one into it, and took it happily. He slammed the entire thing back, not even caring that Hawke had given him a straight tumbler of whiskey instead of whatever it was he had been nursing before. Amber liquid sloshed over the rim of the glass and onto his hand in his haste to drink the entire thing.

“ _Creators, can you hear me?_ ” he heard Ellana sing out behind him, her beautiful voice filling his ears. But he couldn’t stand to look at her. The guitars were spinning together and around him in a frenzy of notes.

Solas had once told the Inquisitor to harden her heart to a cutting edge, but it seemed that he was completely unable to even do it himself. He was such a hypocrite. It was no wonder she had been reluctant to get involved with him, if that was how she really felt. He groaned and finished off the rest his drink, head spinning slightly.

Hawke continued to fill his glass with whiskey, barely taking note of the large man dancing behind the bar as he tended his customers. The show continued on behind Solas as he progressively became more and more inebriated, losing himself in his thoughts, guilt, and self pity as the band hammered out their songs one after another.

The pink bucket sitting on the bar nearby slowly filled up with loose change and cash, nearly full by the time the band finished their encore. Solas was glaring into his glass when pre-recorded music took over the stereo system and people started filtering out of the bar, chattering away about how much they loved the way Dorian gyrated his hips as he played, or how graceful Lavellan was when she danced about on stage. A few unguarded comments about Blackwalls beard even filled Solas’s ears as people drifted past him.

There was no doubt that Ellana had been a rare sight up on the stage, an elven goddess dancing about as her flock worshipped her. Solas wanted to tell her as much but was unsure how he would even get out the words, especially now that alcohol was clouding his mind and filling it with mud.

After most of the audience had filtered out of the bar, the usual patrons started filing in and crowded the dance floor previously occupied by the band’s fans. Before long, the bar was full and Hawke was busy once again tending to his customers.

Solas felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Ellana, a hand on his arm, beaming at him proudly. Her eyes were still smudged dark with kohl, but the rest of the paint had been wiped away, having changed back into her regular torn jeans and t-shirt again.

“So, what did you think?” Solas blinked with surprise. She’d barely spoken more than a few sentences to him since their return from Redcliffe, eerily silent on the trip to Kirkwall despite the van they’d crowded into being packed full of rambunctious young musicians. None of that tension was present in her face now.

Dorian, Sera, and the rest of the band weren’t far behind her, propping themselves up against the bar in various places to get drinks.

“I — uh—” Solas cursed himself. Normally he had no trouble speaking his mind but was currently fumbling over the simplest of words.

“Solas, are you alright?” Ellana asked, brow furrowed in concern. Her gaze flickered to his empty glass and back to his face.

“How much have you had to drink?” she laughed, head tilting to look at him.

Hawke arrived with a tray full of shot glasses, placing them in front of the group.

“A’right! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” chirped Sera, passing out the shots amongst them. “Wait, who’s this elfy guy? He was with us in the van right?” The blonde elf motioned towards Solas with a full shot glass, the clear liquid sloshing over onto her fingers a little.

“This is Solas guys! Sera, be nice,” reminded Ellana with a scolding look towards Sera.

Dorian passed Solas one of the shot glasses and he took it with a nod. “We’ve already met, I believe,” said Dorian, waggling an eyebrow at him.

“My thanks,” mumbled Solas. He turned to Sera, Blackwall, Cassandra, and Bull, giving them a slight nod.

“The pleasure is mine, I am very pleased to make your acquaintance,” Solas managed to spit out, making every effort not to slur his words together.

Sera scoffed and gave him a disgusted look. “Wha? Who talks like that, yeah? You some sort of weird elfy elf?”

“Sera!” Ellana laughed and reached across Solas to retrieve one of the shots, her free hand resting on his back for balance.

“Alright, all together now,” said Iron Bull, his great hulking form looming over them as he leaned in with his shot glass.

“He’s very….bald,” Cassandra whispered in Ellana’s ear as they all leaned in to clink their shot glasses together. Solas’s ear twitched, having heard the exchange.

Ellana snorted and gave Cassandra a long look.

“What?!” sputtered Cassandra, raising her shot glass to her lips before lowering it again. “Oh no, I don’t — Maker, Lavellan. That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Ellana cackled and slammed back her shot with everyone else, turning to lean her back against the bar so she was facing Solas. Her hip was pressed up against his thigh and he felt his ears flush at her nearness. Perhaps he had not had quite enough to drink yet after all…He was very perplexed; Ellana was all smiles and close, so close, he could smell her cinnamon scented perfume. Wasn’t she angry with him?

“So you didn’t tell me what you thought of our performance!” Ellana said. “Did you like it? Please tell me you liked it.” She was gazing at Solas with large eyes, the coloured lights of the bar reflecting off them in the dim light.

“You were astonishing,” he mumbled. “You shone like a star in the night sky. Beautiful. Extraordinary. I have never seen anything like it.”

The grin that spread across her face was dazzling, and he swallowed thickly, gaze lowering to her lips.

“And what are we, chopped liver?!” laughed Bull, dropping a hand to Solas’s shoulder, startling him. The large Qunari squeezed his shoulder and gave it a pat before releasing him.

“Ellana! Let’s _dance_!” whined Sera, pulling on the singers hand.

“In a minute, Sera. I’ll meet you on the dance floor, ok?” Ellana replied.

The young blonde elf pouted and pranced off to the dance floor in front of the stage to join the multitude of people rocking out to the music pumping from the speakers.

“You owe me a dance, my dear,” cooed Dorian as he gave her a coy look over his shoulder, joining the rest of the band on the dance floor, leaving Solas and Ellana alone at the bar.

Ellana accepted more drinks from Hawke, ignoring the mans waggling eyebrows as she passed one of them to Solas with a roll of her eyes. The plaid-clad man had tried to set her up with friends before, and Ellana was sure he coveted his self-proclaimed title of matchmaker.

She turned back to Solas. “You’re awfully quiet,” she observed, taking a long drink from her beer.

“I…your music. You wrote it yourself, did you not?” he asked her, not looking up from his drink.

“Ah, yes,” she replied. Ellana looked at him for a long minute before setting her drink on the bar. “I write most of my lyrics based off the dreams I have…the dreams I have about you.”

Solas nodded and looked at her with glazed eyes. “I assumed as much,” he told her.

Ellana sighed and looked away, slightly uncomfortable with the intensity of his gaze. “Solas, when I wrote those songs…it was a long time ago. I was so overwhelmed by what I saw and felt in those dreams. I had to write about it, attempt to understand it.”

“And now?” Solas asked. He paused with baited breath, waiting her reply.

“Now…I’ve moved past it I think. I felt every thing she felt, you know. I was so angry with you for a long time.” Ellana laughed and idly played with the rim of her glass with one finger.

“I didn’t understand what I was seeing or feeling. I think mostly I was angry at myself, at her, for forgiving you so easily. I didn’t understand why I felt like I would give up everything for you, to help you. She looked for you for so long. I was ashamed of myself, I think.”

Ellana raised her gaze to meet Solas’s eyes and he let out the breath he’d been holding. “I understand now. With time and experience, I think I understand. It was because she loved you. Loves you. I don’t know. Agh!” Ellana ruffled her own hair with both hands before dropping them to her sides.

Her hand lifted to his cheek and caressed it softly, her thumb brushing over the divet in his chin. Solas lifted his hand and placed it over hers, lacing their fingers together as he brought their joined hands to his mouth to place a kiss upon her fingers.

Solas turned to face her fully, spreading his legs so she could stand more easily between them.

“Now…” she whispered, “Now I think more than anything I just want to be with you, Solas. I miss you.” She breathed a laugh. “If that’s even possible, to miss someone you’ve never been with.”

Solas let his hand drift up behind her neck and pulled her down to him slowly. Her lips hesitantly met his in a soft kiss, their hands still laced together between them.

Ellana deepened the gentle kiss by licking along his bottom lip and Solas sighed into her mouth as she opened up to him. He released her hand and pulled Ellana flush against him, feeling the softness of her body along him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she melted into him with a small moan.

“Maker, you two, get a room!” whined Hawke. “You’re going to scare away the customers with all that mushy stuff!”

Ellana pulled away from him and scowled at Hawke. “As if you wouldn’t do the same thing if Fenris was here right now,” she mocked.

“Ok you got me there.”

“How’s he doing by the way? I didn’t see him in the crowd tonight. I still love that the only reason you two met was because of my band!”

Hawke gave Ellana a lopsided grin and leaned on the bar towards her. “He’s doing pretty great, actually. He’s out of town at an exhibition otherwise he’d have been here for sure. Anyway I’ve got to get back to it, have a great night yeah?”

“Later, Hawke!” Ellana called after Hawke as he retreated to the other end of the bar to serve a patron.

She turned back to Solas with a smirk. “Come dance with me?” she asked him in a low voice.

“Only if you promise not to growl at me like you did on stage,” joked Solas lightly, watching the way the coloured lights reflected off her hair.

Ellana downed the rest of her beer and laughed, eyes twinkling in the dim light.

“I admit, the last thing I expected was to hear the voice of a demon from such an enchanting woman such as yourself,” said Solas.

“They never do,” said Ellana with a sing-song tone. She took Solas by the hand, allowing him only a moment to finish his whiskey before dragging him onto the dance floor near the rest of her friends.

Ellana slipped into his arms easily, her arms draping over his shoulders as she swayed back and forth to the heavy beat of the music. Admittedly, Solas had no idea how to dance to such loud, abrasive music. Taking a look around, most people seemed to just be grinding against each other in a half-assed attempt to keep to the rhythm. A glance over at Dorian and he wished he hadn’t bothered - the dark skinned man was pressing his rear end into Iron Bull’s body so firmly they might as well have been attached at the groin.

Ellana pressed her own hips into his as she traced patterns on the back of his head, pulling his attention back to her. He could feel her breath on his neck as she pulled him in closer, her hips pressing against him in a scandalous sashay of movement.

The room was spinning and Solas was sure that if not for the weight of the petite elven women pressed against him, he would have gone stumbling to the floor in an embarrassing manner. Ellana spun 180 degrees in his arms and pressed her back up against him, placing his hands on her waist.

A hand smacked him in the face and he scowled at the offending appendage, snorting as his eyes fell on the writhing, flailing body of Sera beside them. The young woman had absolutely zero sense of rhythm.

Solas held Ellana to him, burying his face in her shoulder. The softness of her rear end pressed against the heat of his groin and he growled lightly in her ear. “Ellana…” he warned.

Her head turned slightly back towards him. “Hmm? Yes, Solas?” She ground back against him again.

Well, this was not what he had been expecting when she had asked him to dance. She might as well bend over and bare herself to him, and Solas felt a coiling of arousal in his belly at the thought. To bend her over here, amongst all these people…take her and have his way with her. The idea was tempting, to say the least.

“You are a little vixen,” he groaned into her ear.

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed,” she cooed at him, biting her lower lip.

The heavy beat of the music reverberated around them as she turned back to face him, arms curling around his neck. Solas leaned in and rested his forehead against hers, feeling her breath heavy on his cheek.

“Vhenan, I…” he whispered.

“Shhh, Solas.” Teeth nipped his ear and a shudder ripped through him. Her nails were tracing patterns on his scalp, and it felt _so_ good. One of the pleasurable side benefits of having no hair, he supposed.

“I need you, vhenan,” he forced out breathlessly, in such a state that the endearment slipped past his lips without it meaning to.

“Mm, I need you too, Solas,” she whimpered back, crashing her lips into his. Solas pulled back from the sudden kiss, blinking in surprise.

“You do?”

The arms around his neck tightened. “Is that such a surprise?” she asked.

“I thought perhaps you still wanted to wait.” Bodies were pressing and grinding up against him in the flashing coloured lights, but all he could see was Ellana.

“I’m done with waiting. Let’s go,” she said, pulling away and taking his hand in hers.

They retrieved their jackets from behind the bar and slipped them on in a hurry. Ellana lead the way to the front door, her hand warm and soft in his as he attempted foolishly not to stumble over his own feet. Ellana wasn’t in much better a state, giggling slightly to herself as her foot caught on the edge of a stone jutting out of the pathway.

Solas shuddered slightly at the blast of cool air that hit him as they emerged from the bar, and pulled Ellana to his side, arm over her shoulder to keep her warm.

He gazed down at her, tucked under his arm as they walked - no, stumbled - down the street. She looked so beautiful. She always looked so beautiful.

The hotel they had booked was only a short distance down the street from the bar, but Solas couldn’t wait. He stopped and pulled her arm, pushing her against the cold stone of the building beside them. He leaned his weight on one hand by her head, watching as she bit on her lower lip. Leaning in, he replaced her teeth with his own, pulling her lip into his mouth to suck on it. His body disagreeing with the sudden movement, he wavered, his hand on the wall the only thing keeping his balance as his body crashed into hers, accidentally deepening their kiss. Ellana moaned quietly into his lips and he buried his free hand in her hair, wanting to be as close to her as possible.

Solas heard a catcall whistle nearby but ignored it, wanting nothing to do but kiss Ellana all night. She responded to his kiss eagerly, hands clutching at his jacket for stability.

Her cheeks were flush, the tips of her ears pink, and Solas nearly leaned back into kiss her again. They needed be back at the hotel, _now_. With a knowing look, Ellana pulled away and dragged him off in the direction of the hotel by his hand.

She smiled up at him broadly, a genuine smile stretching across his own lips.

* * *

 

After a few minutes they were at the door of her hotel room and she fumbled to get her key to slide through the lock. Impatient, Solas flicked his hand at the door and the lock popped open on its own, the magic leaving a lingering taste of ozone in the air.

Solas smirked at her as he slipped inside the hotel room, leaving her standing there in shock only for a moment before she stumbled in after him. Solas wriggled out of his coat and flung it over the back of the nearby armchair before sauntering over to Ellana and pulling her into an intense kiss.

Ellana wiggled out of her own tattered leather jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind her as she lost herself in his touch. Solas let his hands wander over her body, taking in every curve; the soft curve of her breasts, the swell of her ribs, the bone slightly protruding from her hip.

Solas pressed a thigh between her legs, gently easing them apart as he lifted her t-shirt up and over her head. Ellana’s face flushed and attempted to cover herself weakly with her hands.

“Vhenan, we can stop if you want,” he breathed. “I will respect whatever decision you make.”

She gazed up at him, slowly lowering her hands to reveal the lacy black bra she was wearing. Solas bit his lip and tried not to ravish her there and then.

“No, no. I don’t want to stop,” said Ellana with a sigh. “It’s just…been a very long time. I think I’m a little shy,” she laughed.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her warm skin against him. “I want this. I want you.”

Solas groaned and dove in to taste her lips again. She tasted like beer and butterscotch - he would be happy as long as he could gorge himself on that divine taste all night.

Lithe fingers trailed down his chest and under his shirt, lifting it over his head. Solas discarded the garment on the floor with her jacket and straightened before her. Ellana’s fingers traced up his abdomen, over the hard muscles, and up over his chest to his collarbone. Solas shuddered pleasantly under her touch, a deep sigh leaving his lungs.

“Freckles everywhere…” Ellana murmured before dipping her head to pepper kisses over his chest and shoulders, following the trail of freckles beneath her lips.

Solas moaned and pulled her up by the chin to meet her with a fiery kiss, a kiss so deep it stole the breath from his lungs. Knees trembling, he picked her up by the waist, arms wrapped tightly around her, before taking a few steps forward and depositing her on the bed.

Without missing a beat he settled over her and dove in for another kiss, her tongue a velvety chocolate against his own, and he ate it up like a starved man.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Ellana murmured against his lips.

Solas groaned and slid his hand up from her hip to palm a small breast in his hand, feeling the hard nub of her nipple through the thin lace of her brassiere. “You are always in my mind, vhenan,” he replied breathlessly.

Her back arched off the bed into his hand as he flicked his finger over her nipple, tongue leaving a wet trail down her neck to her collarbone. “You have no idea how long I have wanted this. Wanted you,” he moaned into her skin. She was so soft under his hands, skin flush with arousal. How had he been able to resist her for this long?

Ellana whimpered and squirmed beneath him, hips raising off the bed to press into him as he bit and sucked at her neck, marking her as his. His erection strained in his pants - were they always this tight? He desperately needed to get them off so he could feel all of her.

Clearly, Ellana had the same idea, her hands reaching down to fumble with the button of his pants. Sitting back, he gave her room to undo the button and zip down the fly. Her hand immediately went into his pants and trailed down the length of his hard member. He sucked in a breath and moaned, blue eyes locking with hers. She stared at him from under her eyelashes, a tooth biting at her lip as a demure smirk crept across her lips. She knew perfectly well what she was doing to him.

Breathlessly, Solas pushed down his pants and kicked them from his legs, leaving him sitting over her in a pair of dark blue boxer briefs, erection straining to be released. His hands reached down to the button of her trousers and undid the clasp quickly as her small fingers stroked the length of him. Peeling them off her in one swift movement, he tossed them over his shoulder, letting them fall somewhere behind him. He would worry about it later.

His breath left him at the sight before him; legs spread slightly to accommodate Solas between them, chest rising and falling with heavy breath, face and ears flushed with arousal, hair curled and splayed around her. Ellana Lavellan was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on in his very long life.

This was a woman who cared deeply for the well-being of others around her, whether friend or stranger. A woman who would stop and dance with buskers on the street. A woman who cared deeply for her people and the state of the world, who would give the homeless her lunch without a second thought. A woman who loved so passionately it took his breath away.

And she was his.

Solas sighed happily and ran his hand down between her breasts, over her stomach, and came to rest on her lower abdomen. She raised her hips and pushed against his hand with a whimper.

“Solas, you tease,” she whined.

He smiled and bent down to place a kiss on her nose.

“Tell me what you want, Ellana,” he breathed into her skin as he moved down to take a nipple into his mouth, licking it through the thin lace.

“Aahn — I — I want, oh Creators,” she breathed as Solas pulled aside the fabric and took the nipple into his mouth fully, swirling his tongue around the hard nub.

“What was that?” he laughed as he pulled away, catching the annoyed look in her eye.

He leaned his weight on one elbow as the other hand trailed down her side, tickling at her hips.

“Fenhedis, I want you to make love to me, Solas. Do I have to spell it out for — _fuck_ ,” she moaned as a long finger slipped beneath the delicate fabric of her underwear and across her wet folds to press against her clit. She was wet, so wet, so ready for him already and he’d barely even touched her.

Solas couldn’t help it when his hips bucked down into her thigh at the sound of her voice cracking in pleasure for him. Fingers dug into his shoulder hard enough to bruise as he rolled her clit between his fingers and a wicked moan left her lips.

“I want to see all of you, vhenan,” he ground out, removing his hand from her undergarments. Ellana nodded and sat up enough to reach a hand behind her back to unclasp the hook of her bra, letting it fall to her side. Solas pulled down her underwear, letting it fly behind him to join the rest of their clothes.

He groaned at the sight of her. Small, pert breasts stared up at him, a small dusting of well-groomed hair trailing around her most private area. Solas pushed her legs apart gently, revealing the slick folds of her sex, wet with arousal. He had never seen her so fully exposed and laid bare before him, and he cursed himself for having waited this long. He’d fantasized of this moment for so many years, and now that she was laid here before him, he could scarce believe it.

Ellana’s delicate fingers reached down and trailed down the length of his cock, eliciting a low groan from the elf hovering over her. “I want to see you too,” she whispered.

Solas nodded eagerly and stood up from the bed, pushing down his briefs, his erection springing out as it became exposed. Ellana rose to her knees and wordlessly took the length of him in her hand, looking up at him intently. He pushed hair from her face and buried his hands in it, pulling her into him for a long kiss, tongues swirling around each other in a lazy pattern.

His hips bucked into her hand with a low growl as she began to stroke, thumb rubbing over the head to play with the precum building at the slit. Picking her up, noting that she barely seemed to weigh anything at all, he threw her back into the bed and crawled over her.

Solas settled his weight over Ellana and let his hips press into her own, moaning at the skin on skin contact. Her breasts were so soft against his chest, he could feel the wetness of her core pressing against his erection. He needed to be in her, _now_. He needed to feel her envelop him and take him into her, become one with her.

Wordlessly (for he had none to spare at the moment) he let the head of his cock brush against her entrance and began to ease himself in. Ellana’s whimpers encouraging him, he thrust in all the way home until he felt the flesh of her entrance meet the base of his cock. With a long moan he opened his eyes to watch her as he pulled out and then thrust back into her. Ellana pressed her head back into the bed with a whimper, exposing her throat as her hands flailed about to find purchase, anything to anchor to.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she moaned loudly and Solas let his head drop to her shoulder as he thrust into her again, again, again, her wet heat enveloping and squeezing around him. Her legs wrapped around his slim hips, letting him grind impossibly deep down into her.

He reached for her hands and laced his fingers through hers, pressing them down into the mattress on either side of her head.

“Kiss me,” she breathed, and he did. His lips found hers and lost himself in her, hips pounding into her with a ferocity he thought long dead inside him. But she awakened it inside him. She always found that little burning ember within him and lit it aflame. It was consuming him whole now, their bodies slick with sweat as he rut into her over and over again.

Pleasure coiled in his groin and he knew he was close. He hadn’t wanted to finish so soon but it had been _so long_ and he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer - not with the way she ground her hips up to meet his in a passionate dance of sex and lust.

Ellana’s whimpers became more erratic against his lips and he knew she was close as well from the tensing her abdominal muscles.

“I — I,” Ellana whimpered.

“I know,” he moaned, his thrusts into her becoming more erratic as she tightened around him. He could barely breathe, his heart hammering in his chest as pleasure started to overtake him. Words were starting to become an issue as well as all thought left him, muttering incomprehensible elven phrases against her lips.

“Lasa em tua rosas’da’din,” he moaned into her ear, unable to maintain the kiss, burying his hand in her hair on the other side of her head, fingers clutching and pulling at it lightly.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ellana moaned in a pitched voice, hands clasping around him. “Solas!” she called out as her orgasm slammed into her, hips bucking against Solas’s in an erratic manner as he struggled to maintain his control.

The walls of her vagina clamped and convulsed around him, and he felt his balls tighten as orgasm shot through him as well. Moaning in wild abandon, he pulled out at the last second and spilled his seed over her belly, his hips rutting against her as he unloaded himself, Ellana still whimpering as aftershocks of her orgasm rippled through her.

Heavy with breath and weak in the arms, Solas raised himself to look down at her, disentangling his hand from her hair. She was smiling at him, sweat trickling into her hairline. Solas smiled as well and leant down to kiss her before rolling off her to curl up against her side.

Ellana nuzzled her face into his and kissed him softly before giggling. “Do you always slip into Elvhen when you make love?” she asked.

Solas laughed and pulled her close. “Only with you,” he admitted, mind still fumbling over itself in attempt of coordination. That had been one hell of an orgasm, and one a long time coming.

His fingers traced patterns on her waist, dipping into the sticky substance, having forgotten it was there. He reached over to the side-table to a box of tissues and pulled a few loose before returning to her, wiping away the evidence of their lovemaking.

Discarding the used tissue, he gathered the rumpled blanket and pulled it over them both, wrapping an arm around her as she curled up against his chest.

Ellana hid her face in her neck, feeling her smile and mutter something against his skin.

“Hmm? Apologies, I could not hear you,” he mumbled, drowsiness filling him in his post-orgasm bliss.

“Ar lath ma, Solas.”

Solas stilled the lazy movement of his hand on her shoulder and opened his eyes to stare down at her.

“Ar lath ma,” she repeated, a shy smile sneaking across her features.

Solas heaved a sigh of relief and pulled her closer to him, nuzzling her neck, cheek, and placing a wet kiss on her lips. “Ar lath ma, vhen’an’ara,” he sighed.

“Vhen’an’ara?” she questioned, pausing only to deepen the kiss with a sweep of her tongue. “I think I like that.”

Solas smiled as she pulled herself onto him, her tongue diving deep into his mouth for a languid kiss, feeling his cock twitch at the press of her slim body against his.

It wasn’t too soon for another go was it? Ellana smirked down at him before biting at his lip playfully.

Nope. Definitely not.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. Life happened, I didn't have internet for almost a month.
> 
> As always, thank you all for your comments and kudos!


End file.
